


Six

by thirlmalik



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Eventual Romance, Fluff and Smut, Football Player Louis, Gay Sex, M/M, Slow Burn, laundry boy harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-10-23 20:06:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 58,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10726290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thirlmalik/pseuds/thirlmalik
Summary: Louis Tomlinson is a very famous footballer who only mildly resents everything in the world (minus Liam, Zayn, sometimes Stan, and his mum). Harry Styles is an enigma. He's a nonconformist who wears nothing but trackies and skinny jeans, always listening to some band no one has ever heard of. When the laundry boy at Old Trafford quits and Harry comes in, Louis really just doesn't know what to do with himself.





	1. Note For Readers

Here I am in 2017 writing a Larry fanfiction for some reason. It's probably because I finally have time to, but also because this idea has been in my head for like two years. Anyway, we'll see how good I am at updating. Rip. Also, if you even opened this you're the best and I love you.


	2. Chapter One

Honestly, being famous is shit. 

Maybe being a famous athlete isn't as bad as being a musician or an actor, but it is still shit. Sure, the fans are great and the money is plentiful. However, Louis does not like his private life being, well, not private. 

"It's been a week, Zayn." He groans, slamming his locker shut. "You'd think they would have found something more interesting than me to talk about." Zayn pulls a fitted t-shirt over his head and shrugs. 

"You're a renowned footballer, Louis. They're going to make this a huge deal." 

"I just want to leave my house without the ever-present fear of being trampled to death. Believe it or not, I'm not too fond of dying young. Can't die with an ass that still looks like this, you know?" He grins, grabbing his bum. Zayn gives him a small laugh before taking their uniforms and tossing them into the bin the laundry boy is carrying. He fumbles with the basket a bit, not even looking in Zayn and Louis' direction.

"It'll blow over within the next few weeks. For now, though, we can camp out at mine or yours. You supply the food, I'll supply the shoulder to cry on." 

"Thanks." Louis says flatly. "Fair trade."

"Right? Let's stay at mine tonight. By the looks of that article you showed me, I'd say your place is a bit... Overwhelming." Zayn slings his black and red bag over his shoulder, Louis mimicking his actions. 

"I want the good guest bed." Louis grumbles, walking out of the now vacant locker room. 

"Fine. For right now, just focus on mentally preparing yourself for what's outside." Zayn huffs. Louis is dreading what is to come. Maybe he hadn't made the right decision after all.

They walk into the hall and the further down they go, the louder it becomes. Voices echo down to them and Louis may or may not be a bundle of nerves. This is the first footy practice they've had since his announcement, having a short break and all. Everyone knows that he's about to leave and of course people would be outside, waiting only for him. 

"Not going. Sleeping here." Louis stops walking and sets his bag on the ground. Maybe he is being a little dramatic, but really, facing paparazzi is one of the worst things any human being could ever experience. There is assuredly a maximum amount of flashing lights you can see before you finally go mental. 

"Nothing's going to happen, okay? Just keep your head down and make a beeline for your car. It's not like they can get to you. Also, I'm pretty sure they aren't allowed to damage vehicles." 

"If they hurt my car I'm suing." Zayn laughs and Louis scowls. "You seriously think I'm joking?" 

"Not at all, mate. Come on. I'll even walk you out there." Zayn bats his eyelashes and holds out his hand, waiting for Louis expectantly. Louis stands there for a moment, weighing out his options. He can either call it quits and camp out on the locker room floor for the night, or he can actually grow a pair and walk into the car park, the threat of paps yelling obscene things at him being a major issue. 

A bed does sound nice.

"Fuck you." Louis says under his breath, picking up his bag and taking Zayn's hand into his. It is a platonic hand-holding session, but it most likely doesn't look like it. Louis and Zayn are notorious for majorly stepping over the line of friendly/sexual, so hopefully no one will look too far into their small gesture. 

Zayn is with Liam Payne, has been for two years now. It's kind of a secret thing, the press and most of the football team unaware that it's happening. They're good at keeping things on the down-low. 

"Looking really homoerotic at the moment, Malik." Louis wiggles his eyebrows and Zayn looks slightly annoyed. Okay, so Zayn doesn't like the gay jokes. He claims to be "Liamsexual", which Louis will be damned if he ever knows exactly what the fuck that means. 

"I love girls, yeah? Liam is just... He's the exception." Louis figures that Zayn just doesn't want to come out yet, which is perfectly fine with him. Time is of the essence, he supposes. 

"At least I'm not a camp bigot." Zayn mutters under his breath in a way that Louis can only assume is out of irritation. 

"Me? A bigot! Surely you aren't bashing my love for pestering the one and only Zayn Malik." Louis says dramatically, hand over his heart and all. Before Zayn can respond, though, they reach the door to the car park. Most of the frivolous vibes have been sucked out of the air at this point, Louis nervously clutching Zayn's hand. 

"They can't be in there, Louis. They aren't allowed." Zayn sounds like he's trying to convince himself more than he is trying to convince Louis. 

"You'd be surprised." Louis snorts, recalling the last time a footballer had 'life-changing' news made public. A sea of paps had swarmed the stadium, even the bloody parking lot becoming a victim of publicity. Honestly, Louis hadn't seen why Grimshaw (who was already out of the closet, mind) showing off his new boyfriend had been such news, but whatever. 

Funny how they broke up nearly six months after that whole incident.

Zayn doesn't even warn Louis before opening the door, Louis' heart pounding in his chest. Sure, he's had paps mob him, fans too. This is a different scenario, though. All of this publicity is purely Louis' fault, no matter how many times Zayn tells him that he's done the right thing. He easily could've prevented every bit of stress that he is encountering, and has been encountering for the past week. Bugger.

"You'd think that you telling the same story ten times would bore them to death." Zayn jokes, his voice quieter than usual. Only a couple paps have actually managed to get inside, Louis wondering why anyone let them in in the first place. He is almost certain that the stadium ensures privacy of players for this sort of thing, but there's really nothing he can do about it now. 

"I just want to go home." Louis sighs, his voice becoming deeper with agitation. 

"My flat is home?" 

"Of course your flat is home. We've snuggled in that flat." Louis confirms with a small simper. 

"So that's what sealed the deal? Not the excellent hospitality and atmosphere? Offensive." They reach Louis' car and he leans against the driver's door, trying not to make eye contact with the pap who's currently snapping pictures of him. What good is it to take pictures of him with Zayn? They've kissed once, only because of a drunken dare. 

Liamsexuality does not include wanting to kiss Louis, so Louis doesn't worry about Zayn having a secret shrine of his bum or anything weird like that. 

"Anywhere that holds your precious face is home to me, Zayn." Louis coos, unlocking his door and throwing his duffel in the backseat. His Range Rover is undoubtedly his most prized possession. Anyone who even so much as threatens to scuff the paint will be given a dirty look and maybe a restraining order. The latter has yet to happen, but no one is doubting Louis' seriousness. 

"Your words have me swooning." Zayn says fakely, getting a laugh out of Louis. "But really, come straight to my house. I have, like, six bags of mozzarella sticks in my freezer. Someone needs to eat them." 

"Liam doesn't like them?" Louis tries, just waiting for an appropriate reaction from Zayn. Much to his dismay, Zayn actually gives him a non-sarcastic answer, giving him little to work with in his plan to continue harassing him for the evening. 

"Yeah, he does, but the man can only eat so much." 

"Why would you even buy six bags of mozzarella sticks?" 

Zayn glares at him for a split second before cocking his head, getting into the perfect position for a snarky comment. Zayn and Louis' friendship is based off of two things: sarcasm and genuine love for each other. Obviously, the side that everyone sees is the sarcastic, 'I can't fucking stand you' side. But when it's needed, the fondness comes out and they really do tolerate each other. 

"A man needs his frozen food, Louis." Is the only thing he can come up with, leaving Louis with a judgmental look on his face. "What?"

"You're lame." He says bluntly. 

"Ouch." Zayn says, pretending to be wounded in the abdomen. 

"I love you." Louis smiles, erasing all traces of acrimony from his features. "Now go get in your car. I'm starving." 

"God, you're a bit bossy today, aren't you?" 

"Only when I'm hungry. Now let's move it. Have a hot date waiting for me, yeah?" Louis winks, deciding to put on a bit of a show for the few paps scattered throughout the parking area. He's still nervous as fuck, knowing that the second he pulls onto the street his car and his sanity will be in grave danger thanks to paparazzi. 

Once he's situated, he pulls out of his reserved space and heads toward the exit, bracing himself for the flashing cameras and shouts from middle-aged men and women. 

"Fuck it." He says under his breath, punching in the code on the beam and waiting for the gate to open. Sunlight pours into the cemented area as it opens, nearly blinding Louis. He soon realizes that his retinas were spared because he can see a swarm of reporters on the sidewalk. At least they are nice enough to clear the driveway for him. 

Waiting until Zayn is right behind him, he eventually pulls into the street, at least a hundred people following his car, their cameras going off one after the other. It's all a bit ridiculous, Louis thinks. They're almost making fools out of themselves, chasing down his vehicle in hopes of getting a bit of feedback from him. 

Tough shit. He doesn't even have his windows cracked. 

He sees Zayn stop suddenly in his mirror and laughs out loud when he realizes that he's nearly killed someone. Zayn was probably pissing himself. 

Once he outruns the mob of photographers, his heartbeat slows to a normal pace. If he had known that being famous is this stressful, he never would have signed up three years ago. 

That's a lie. He wouldn't trade his job for the world. Football is the only thing he even likes to do. What other option does he have? 

By the time he arrives at Zayn's flat, it's nearly six in the evening. Zayn lives outside of Manchester, his house about thirty minutes from the stadium. It's a boring drive, but Zayn loves his privacy. Anyway, if Zayn hadn't moved so fucking far away, he never would have met Liam. 

Zayn's version of meeting Liam is probably the most exaggerated story Louis has ever heard, but he's given up on asking for the real version. It begins with Zayn at a club (shocking) and apparently he was so smashed he 'obviously didn't know what he was doing. It must have been fate.' Those are his actual words and Louis about loses it every time he tells that part of the story. He's set on Zayn having no other way of explaining why he was attracted to Liam, but whatever. 

Apparently Zayn was burning one outside when he heard some shouting. Now, Louis cannot believe that Zayn, his Zayn, even considered what happened next, but maybe he really did drink much more than he ever should. 

Zayn 'stomped his cigarette into the pavement and went toward the source of the banter, his eyes landing on two rather large men. One of them had a neck tattoo and everything. The softer looking one had clearly just taken a blow to the face, blood trickling down his cheek.' Louis has met Liam more than ten times and he still doesn't understand why the fuck anyone would want to hit the bloke. He's never heard him say something bad about anyone, well, ever. 

So Zayn, being the romantic hero he is, 'rushed over and punched the shit out of the guy who had hit Liam, showing no mercy until he was out cold. He looked at Liam once and knew that he was gone. After exchanging a maximum amount of twelve words, Liam was in Zayn's car, en route to Zayn's flat.' 

Once Zayn had cleaned Liam up, the two of them were already hitting it off, Liam stirring something inside of Zayn that he didn't know existed. 

A month later they fucked and that was it. That sealed the deal.

Their love story isn't remotely as tragic as Zayn thinks it is, but who is Louis to judge. He's never been in real love with anyone. Maybe that's what love does to you. It makes you so fluffy and happy all of the time that other people can't stand you. 

Louis thinks that he is better off alone if that's the case. He prefers sticking to his usual jaded self. 

After parking on what Zayn calls a driveway (but is more like a commercial parking lot), Louis turns off his car and gets out, waiting on Zayn to pull in. No more than five minutes later, he and Zayn are in the kitchen talking. 

"I figured it was you." Liam laughs, rubbing a hand on his chest as he walks into the much-too-large and sleek kitchen. "You're the poor sod's only friend, after all." Zayn pouts and Louis just rolls his eyes. Being with Liam and Zayn while they're together is equivalent to being submerged in boiling water. 

Maybe that's a shitty metaphor, but Louis really cannot think of anything more agonizing than watching the two of them be so fucking affectionate toward each other. 

It's sickening is what it is. 

Confirming Louis' comparison, Liam wraps his arms around Zayn's waist and rests his chin on his shoulder. "So, Louis. How did your first practice after coming out to the world go?" When Liam puts it like that it really weighs down on Louis' chest. 

It actually fucking happened.

"Well, no one really treated me differently. Grimshaw asked how many guys I've shagged since I came out and I could only laugh at that, really. What am I supposed to tell him? A whopping zero?" Louis laughs. Now that he can fuck any guy he wants without the fear of them tattling on him, he's even more sexually frustrated than before. 

His right hand just isn't cutting it. 

"How long has it been since you've been laid, man?" Zayn asks, ripping open a bag of the promised mozzarella sticks. 

"Now that I think about it, David Soutar was a bit wary of me." Louis says, changing the subject. Of course Liam and Zayn find it hilarious that Louis wants to change the subject so quickly. 

"Want me to kick his ass?" Zayn asks, his face growing a bit more serious. 

"Nah, he'll just have to live with it. Don't think I'll be putting my dick in him anytime soon, so he has nothing to worry about."

"Homophobia is a joke." Zayn mutters, spreading out their dinner on a baking sheet. 

"Some people just can't grasp the concept of love, babe." Liam says softly. Louis feels like he's interrupting a private moment every time the two of them speak to each other. It's like no one else exists but them and it kind of freaks him out. 

"Louis, we need to find you a man." Liam announces, pulling back from Zayn, who just put their dinner in the oven. Before Louis can protest, Liam is bombarding him with questions that even he doesn't know the answer to. "What's your type? Maybe you aren't even ready for a relationship. Does he have to be famous? That may be a bit difficult-"

"I don't know, Liam." Louis cuts him off, seriously trying to sound annoyed. However, he thinks that he comes off as more amused than anything. "I don't have a type. Just put the bloke in front of me and I'll scope him out." 

"Who doesn't have a type?" Zayn asks, leaning against the marble countertop. His maid must have to clean the kitchen every day, regardless of whether or not Zayn and Liam have even stepped foot in it. The room is fucking sparkling and Louis adds that to his mental list of things that make Zayn a better person than he is. He's pretty sure the list has about fifty things on it and it's only been two weeks since he's started the damned thing. 

Louis needs to get a grip.

"Me?" Louis shrugs, opening the fridge and looking around for something to drink. He settles on a beer and cracks it open, downing about a third of it on his first drink. 

"Mate, you have got to be a little lonely. Your house is fucking massive. At least get a cat or something." Zayn recommends. Louis refuses to be the single 24-year-old living with no one but a cat. He doesn't loathe himself that much. Although it's scarce, his dignity is lying around somewhere. 

"Hey, just because I don't have some fairytale going on in my life right now doesn't mean I'm lonely. I've got you two!" He knows it's a pitiful declaration, but who else does he have, honestly? He never has time to visit his family between practices and games. He presumes he could've visited this past week while he was taking a break, but there was just so much going on inside his head and around him that the thought didn't even cross his mind. Calling his mother soon sounds like a very good idea.

Zayn snorts and rolls his eyes. "Wow, Louis. What a great bunch we are."

"You need to get laid. You've been so high-strung lately." Liam adds. When in doubt, Louis can always turn to his best mates for moral support. Obviously. 

"I'm fine. I really am. I'm just taking things slow, okay?" Which, in a way, he is. He isn't too fond of the idea of just jumping straight into a relationship a week after he's come out. Who the fuck would he even date? He can't even get anyone to shag him, let alone date him. 

It suddenly hits him that, yeah, he is fucking alone. In a world filled with pairs of socks, he is the sock without a match. Hypothetically speaking, of course. 

Louis is comparing himself to a sock. His life seems to be turning into nothing but a disheartening tale. 

"Just don't turn into an idiot, yeah? Everyone deserves love. I know that it's really hard for you to believe for some reason that's unknown to me, but yeah, even you." 

"When did you turn into such a sap? I knew you were a poetic fuck, but man. You're really laying it on me tonight." Louis hates serious conversations and tends to avoid them at all costs. They make him uncomfortable and tense and he just doesn't need that in his life. 

Zayn loosens up a bit, sighing. "Just take my advice and stop being a prick." He mutters, shaking his head. Louis decides to leave it at that. 

x

"Do you two ever stop fucking touching each other?" Louis groans from his end of the sofa, the light from the television illuminating his face in the dark. It's probably around two the morning, but he really does not care. Zayn and Liam are cuddled up on the other end of the couch, a blanket covering both of them. Zayn's head is on Liam's chest and Liam is running his fingers through Zayn's hair, the sight making Louis queasy.

"It's called love, Louis." Zayn grumbles, clearly half asleep. "Try it sometime." Liam just shrugs at that and Louis gags before returning his focus to the TV. They're watching 'American Horror Story', Zayn insisting that it's the best show ever produced and it's a must-watch. They're only on season one and, truthfully, Louis has only been paying attention to Evan Peters. 

He watches as Violet downs a bottle of pills, his stomach tightening as he realizes what's happening. Okay, maybe he grew fond of Tate and Violet during this whole escapade, but Zayn and Liam will never be granted the satisfaction from that small detail. 

Tate comes in and starts shouting, telling her not to die, and begins dragging her into the bathroom. 

Tate loves Violet. 

No one loves Louis. 

It's 2 in the morning. 

"Well, I think I'm going to head off to bed." Louis announces, not wanting to have an emotional breakdown in front of Zayn. He knows that he would only briefly tease him about it then he would actually step up and do something, but Louis honestly cannot handle that right now. A bed and a soft pillow is all that he needs. He'll be fine. 

"G'night." Zayn and Liam say in unison. It's like they've become one person, which really unhinges Louis. Being that affected by your best mate's relationship probably isn't healthy, but he can't help it. The way the two of them communicate is fucking creepy. Telepathic powers are undoubtedly present. 

Louis stands up and stretches a bit before walking up the cool marble stairs, his eyes shutting a couple times. Falling down some rock-hard stairs seems like quite the adventure, but he decides to pass for the night. Maybe tomorrow. 

Once he gets into the upstairs hallway, he opens the first door on the right, revealing a queen-sized bed covered in pillows. 

"You fucking tosser." He grunts, trying to figure out the best strategy for removing all fifteen pillows in under ten seconds. Why does Zayn even have this many pillows on a guest bed? Louis is the only person who even sleeps over anymore. Decorative pillows are not his main priority in life. 

Louis sends Zayn a quick and slightly profane text regarding his excessive amount of throw pillows before trudging into the ensuite to brush his teeth. 

Once he's done that, he plugs in his phone and climbs under the duvet, shutting off the light as well. The thing is, Louis is very, very tired. However, sleeping is very difficult when the only thing playing in your mind is 'everyone deserves love'. 

No one loves Louis and for the first time in years, he actually cares. 

Poor sod, indeed.

x

When Louis wakes up to Zayn shrieking "Wednesday" into his room, he knows that today is going to be a very long and gruesome day. Wednesday means a harder practice than every other day of the week. Wednesday means running up and down the football pitch thirty times, no breaks allowed. Wednesday means going out in public. 

Being photographed never really bothered Louis before he came out. Now that he's a hot item in the papers, he hates it. Despises it, actually. People are treating him like a zoo animal since he's come out, staring at him and basically saying 'look, everyone! This species of human likes dick'. 

The extra attention is nowhere near appreciated and Louis kind of wants to die. 

After lying motionless in bed for five minutes, he finally gathers enough motivation to get out of bed. Swinging his legs over the side of the mattress, he rubs his eyes and stretches his back, his spine popping in a few spots. Louis has never really been a morning person, especially on Wednesdays. He thinks that maybe if he actually had something other than football to look forward to, he may be able to bear mornings. 

Unfortunately, the future seems grim. Worn-out footballers aren't exactly in popular demand. 

"Practice starts in fifty minutes! Get the fuck up!" Zayn yells from the first floor. Louis groans and heads off to the bathroom to get ready for the lengthy day ahead. 

x

"Everyone is blatantly aware that we play the biggest match of the season on Saturday, correct?" Manchester's manager, Ben, asks. The team nods, sweat glistening off of every player. Louis tries not to stare too much. "Liverpool is one hell of a good team, so I'm expecting every fucking bit of talent to be squeezed out of you for this match. Got it?" 

The U21 Premier League Cup is this weekend, the pressure finally settling in once his manager brings it up. Louis is one of Manchester's better and more widely-known players, so he will assuredly be playing for at least three-fourths of the match. 

"Malik." Zayn whips his head up to meet Ben's eyes, his expression serious and attentive. "I'm counting on you to glue the team together. There's a reason I assigned you as head captain. Don't let me down." Zayn nods profusely, biting his lip out of what Louis assumes is nerves. Zayn has a lot of pressure put on him this year and Louis admires him for handling it so well. 

"Tomlinson." Louis focuses on Ben, waiting for him to continue. "Even more people will be here to see you this year due to recent events. I'm sure some fans won't be happy about your announcement and my only advice is to block out the commentary. Focus on the game and only the game and don't let those fuckers get into your mind, right?" 

"Course." Louis nods, knowing exactly what he needs to do. 

"Great. Okay, lads, you're free to go. Don't stress about Saturday too much. Think of it as any other match and you'll do just fine." They grumble in agreement before dispersing, most of the team heading back to the locker room. Louis and Zayn follow suit, eventually ending up showered and wrapped in towels. They're sitting on the team bench, both on their phones, when Zayn suddenly nudges Louis, a smirk on his face. 

"Think the laundry boy is gay?" Zayn asks slyly, motioning toward the teen with his eyes. Louis discretely looks in his direction, almost immediately noticing how the poor boy can't keep his eyes off of his teammate, Blair. He watches as he fumbles with a couple jerseys when Blair strips off his shirt, and wow, does he connect with this poor kid on a spiritual level or what. 

"Maybe a little. Don't think he knows it yet, though. Don't say anything." Louis doesn't even know the kid's name, but he does notice that he's pretty fit for a teenage boy who's supposed to be going through his awkward stage. 

Feeling slightly like a pedophile, Louis returns his attention to his phone. 

"I think he's the new laundry guy Grimmy was talking about. They're friends. Well, according to Grimmy. That could mean that they've spoken once." Grimmy did have the tendency to 'befriend' every human being he came into contact with. Those friendships were usually one-sided and eventually Nick was left upset over something that was never even there. 

"What happened to the old one?" Louis asks, genuinely curious as to where William, their old laundry boy, went. 

"Quit, apparently. I was actually growing fond of the kid, too. Great sense of humor. I just feel bad for this new one. He's definitely going to have to adjust to... everyone." Zayn has a funny look on his face and Louis figures he seriously cares about this kid's wellbeing. The guys are usually tough on new members of the crew and Louis isn't sure if this boy can handle shit like that. He sure doesn't look like it, anyway.

"Yeah. I'll go easy on him, I guess. Unless he's a twat. Then I'm playing hardball." 

"Fair enough."


	3. Chapter Two

Wednesday night turns into Thursday morning and Thursday evening comes and goes quicker than Louis would have liked. So, here he is lacing up his cleats, getting ready to start practice. Fridays are usually off-days, but special occasions call for special practices. 

He'd say that the League Cup is a pretty special occasion. 

It's one in the afternoon and Louis decides that one is a ridiculously stupid time to hold a practice. Either start it at ten in the morning or four in the afternoon. One is smack dab in the middle of the day and it's really cramping his not-busy schedule. 

After he's suited up and ready to go, he lumbers out to the pitch to join the rest of the team. About half of them are doing their pre-practice stretches, the rest of them nowhere to be found. Louis sidles up to Zayn and hip checks him as a greeting. 

"Hello, Fitzwilliam! I must inquire, how is Lizzy on this wonderful afternoon? You two must have had an absolute riot since my carcass wasn't taking up space in your humble abode last night." Zayn gives him a hard elbow to the side and grunts, completely shooting him down. "God, who pissed in your cereal today?"

"You." He huffs. 

"Cheer up, mate. This practice is part of the reason you can afford that montrosity you call a flat." Zayn plasters a fake smile on his face and gives Louis a thumbs up. 

"Doesn't mean I can't hate it every once in a while!" He says with fabricated delight. Louis can't argue with that. 

Three hours later, Louis is walking off of the field, head down simply because he doesn't think he has the energy to lift it. Just as he's about to walk into the locker room, he bumps into someone. 

"Oops!" He whips his head up to find the laundry boy, who's blushing like crazy. For a teenager, he's very tall and slender. It makes Louis' stomach do weird things that he does not want to think about. 

"Hi." Louis says simply, not wanting the kid to be afraid of him. He's just a footy player, not the fucking Queen. 

"Sorry, just, er, seeing if there's anything on the bench." He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly and Louis cannot afford to stare at those biceps anymore. He's been standing there for twenty seconds and he's already checking out the new boy. Even now, the underage-scandal headlines are blinding him. 

"Oh, okay. You're fine. Proceed." Louis gives him a smile and he shrugs back, continuing past Louis. "Wait, wait, wait. You're new. What's your name?" 

"Harry." The boy says, his voice cracking a little. His hair is slightly pushed off of his forehead, the sides curling alongside his face. He has a gorgeous jawline that Louis can't help but stare at, which is surely making Harry uncomfortable. 

"Harry." Louis repeats. Fresh laundry boy has a name and Louis should not like the way it feels on his tongue. 

He's going to jail. 

"I'm Louis." He adds stupidly, even though Harry is probably very aware of every member of the team's name. God Louis is already getting flustered over a fucking teenager.

"I know, but it's nice to meet you." Harry smiles, a fucking dimple showing. Louis needs to leave. 

"Nice meeting you too. Hope you enjoy, er, working with us. We'll try not to be too hard on you." His joke falls flat, but Harry gives him a small laugh anyway. 

"Good to know. Thanks." And with that they nod each other off and Louis heads back to the lockers, definitely ready for a shower.

His mind is like a broken record for the rest of the afternoon. 

'You are not attracted to Harry.'

x

"No, I don't have anyone, mum." Louis says for the trillionth time since he's called his mother. They've been on the phone for maybe thirty minutes and she's already started blasting away at the 'relationship' questions. 

"Well, I'm sure the right person will come around soon, yeah? You'll bump into them eventually." His mum always seems to think that Louis just mopes around all day because he has no one to crawl into bed with at night. His king-sized bed does get a tad lonely at times, but he usually just spreads out even more to make it seem less big. 

"Yeah, I'll look forward to that." His tone is slightly sarcastic and he really hopes his mum doesn't mention it. 

"Fiz found herself a boyfriend." Subject change. Thank god. 

"Did she now? Nice lad?" He sincerely hopes that his younger sister isn't dating an arsehole. Meeting this mystery man is a must. Well, according to Louis it is. Being over-protective of his siblings is something that has been a part of Louis since Lottie was born. If someone so much as throws a negative comment their way, he nearly loses it. It's probably a bit extreme at times, but god he loves his siblings to death. 

"I approve of him. I'm sure you will too. You need to come visit soon, love. We miss you so much." His mother sounds genuinely sad from his lack of visitation and he makes a mental note to stop being such a twat and actually go see his family soon. 

"I will try my best. Maybe after the Cup. Next weekend sound okay?" 

"You could come in the middle of the night and I wouldn't mind. You know that." She laughs, clearly fine with Louis stopping by at any point in time. He doesn't blame her. He can't even imagine being separated from his nonexistent child for such a long period of time. 

"Alright. I'll probably be up, then. Listen, mum, I've got to go. Grocery shopping is a must, I'm sorry." He really does need to restock his kitchen. The crumbs in the bottom of his only bag of crisps are a very sad excuse for a meal. He believes that his kitchen can be a metaphor regarding his life. 

It has a purpose, obviously, but it's just so fucking empty. 

Yes. Great metaphor. 

"I love you, sweetheart. Good luck with your match tomorrow. I know you'll do amazing." 

"Thanks, mum. Love you too." They say goodbye one last time before Louis hangs up. He lies back on his sofa a bit, the commotion below him muffled, but still there. The fucking paps haven't left his building since he came out, apparently hoping to get some shots of him bringing another guy home or something. 

Fat chance. 

Louis can't even get Zayn to come over half of the time. He needs new friends. 

He lives on the fifth floor of his complex, heights not really being his thing and all. His flat is pretty large considering where it is, but he honestly wouldn't mind a smaller one. Sometimes a three bedroom flat is just too lonely and too much. 

Fuck relationships, though. When have they ever worked out for him anyway? The answer is never. If he did find himself in a relationship, it was rather ephemeral. Short-term relationships aren't even worth it at this point. Just get a good fuck in and leave. 

He continues rotting on the sofa for a few minutes before finally talking himself into getting his lazy arse off of it and to the shop. That seems to be the trend nowadays. It's a bit sad, honestly.

Louis picks his keys up from the kitchen island and shoves his wallet in his pocket before heading out of his apartment, locking the door behind himself. He lets out a sigh of relief when he finds no one else on the lift, making it possible to avoid awkward encounters. He hates when his neighbors are on the lift at the same time as him. They always try to make conversation about football and Louis really just doesn't care. He plays the game. He knows that Matt Irwin fell down multiple times in one game. There's no need to retell the story as if he wasn't standing beside the poor lad the entire time. 

He's perusing through the selection of frozen dinners in the freezer aisle when his phone goes off, making him jump. 

"Jesus." He mumbles under his breath when he sees the text Zayn has sent him. 

'quit wanking and come out with us'

He could always count on Zayn to boost his ego.

'im not saying anything until you give me details'

He sends the message before grabbing a couple boxes of frozen pasta, which will most likely be his next dinners. He's standing in the check out queue when his phones buzzes again. 

'going to a club. its a surprise. only for you my love !!!'

"Twat." Louis mutters under his breath, earning a dirty look from the elderly woman in front of him. On a good day he would feel slightly embarrassed, but today is not one of those days. 

The cashier rings up his items and clearly recognizes him, but doesn't say anything. Must be policy. 

After thanking her and taking his things, he goes out to his car and puts everything in the boot. His recent purchases should last at least two weeks, he figures, so he's content. 

He just really doesn't want to go out tonight. 

x

Five hours later, Louis finds himself in the midst of hundreds of sweaty people, everyone basically just trying to get one another off. It's quite repulsive, but Louis can remember the adrenaline rushes he used to get when he went clubbing. For him, the effect has worn off by now. Apparently that isn't true for ninety-seven percent of the people around him. 

"You're such a deadbeat!" Zayn yells in his ear from behind. Louis turns around and finds Liam and Zayn, Liam's ass grinding into Zayn's crotch. Honestly, Louis thought that Zayn would be submissive in their relationship, but wow, was he wrong. 

The music is upbeat and pulsing through the crowd, everyone either high off of it or an actual substance. 

"I don't want to be here." Louis corrects. Zayn rolls his eyes and nudges Liam slightly. 

"Let Louis have a turn." He mumbles, nodding at Louis. Liam gives him a fake, wounded expression before stepping out of the way and gesturing for Louis to take his place. 

"No way. Nope." Louis has some dignity. He will not go to Zayn as a last resort. His self-worth is sacred, god damnit. 

"Come on, Lou. You look bored to death." Zayn coaxes. Louis contemplates whether or not this really would be a blow to his reputation or not before giving in and walking closer to Zayn. "I knew you had a thing for me." Zayn smirks and Louis is seconds away from killing him.

"The things I do to make you happy, I swear to fucking god." Louis mutters under his breath. Before he can even think about walking away at the last second, Zayn is yanking his hips back and pushing them against his own, grinding against Louis filthily. 

Louis' ass comes into contact with Zayn's hard-on and Louis cannot see straight. 

"Oh my god, Zayn." Louis groans, but not out of pleasure. "I don't want to grind against this hand-me-down hard-on." Zayn squeezes his hip in response, resting his head on Louis' shoulder. 

"Want Liam to blow me in the bathroom so you don't have to?" He asks nonchalantly. Louis literally rips himself out of Zayn's grasp and goes to find Liam. "That was a joke!" Zayn yells, following Louis. 

"You're a piece of work." Louis says once Zayn catches up to him. "Shit friend, too."

"Yeah, okay. Remember that the next time I'm at your house holding you while you cry over your inadequate sex life." 

"I'm doing just fine, Zayn." 

"Doesn't seem like it." Zayn walks up to Liam, who is standing at the bar ordering a round of drinks. 

"He's shit at everything. Except football. Thank god, because we need him tomorrow." Zayn exasperates. Liam just laughs and hands him a drink. 

"Good thing. Didn't really want to give you up yet." He pulls Zayn into his side and a wave of nausea hits Louis. 

"Nice job getting him hard for me." Louis says sarcastically. "Thanks for your charity work." Liam eyes Zayn and smirks, making Louis want to leave even more. 

"Not a problem." Liam winks at Zayn. For Christ's sake. 

"Lou, I think that guy over there wants to take you for a test drive." Zayn says smoothly, nodding his head to the right. Louis discretely looks in that direction and his eyes lock with a brunette's hazel ones. He is actually pretty fit and Louis wouldn't mind leaving a few marks on his body. 

"Pretty sure he's looking at you, mate." Louis laughs. There's no way anyone would choose Louis over Zayn. The universe doesn't work that way. 

Then he remembers that he is a very famous footy player and, well, maybe this guy is ogling at him. His arse is quite the guy-magnet. 

"Go over to him. Throw some notes at him. Make him come. Do something." Zayn encourages. Louis looks at Liam for reassurance and he shrugs.

"Worst case scenario, he's a murderer. Just go." 

"If I'm dead by the end of the night I'm blaming you." Louis points out, giving his drink to Zayn. 

"And we will make your funeral beautiful." Zayn consoles, taking a sip from the glass Louis just handed him. "You deserve a blow job. Go get one." Louis nods and bids them a farewell before making his way down the bar, his hands sweating. He's a celebrity, dammit. He shouldn't be feeling this way. 

He reaches the brunette and leans against the bar, greeting him. "Hey." God, his pick-ups are rusty. 

"Hey yourself." The man says, setting down his drink. 

"Want to dance?" Louis asks, trying to sound as mellow and un-entertained as possible. 

"I've been waiting for you to ask that." The guy laughs, standing up. "I'm Hayden." 

"Louis." 

"I know." He grins. "Come on." Louis follows him back onto the dance floor, wondering if he was finished with his drink. Over-analyzing stupid things while trying to get laid probably isn't the best strategy. 

Hayden pulls him into his hips, similar to the way Zayn had done it a few minutes ago. Louis doesn't mind being the submissive one. In fact, he doesn't expect any less, considering his backside is phenomenal.

He grinds his lower half into Hayden's, both of them quickly finding a rhythm. It's almost surprising how quickly he becomes hard, but it's more embarrassing than anything. They've been on the floor for maybe ten minutes and Louis is so hard he can barely breathe. 

It really has been a while since someone has manhandled him. 

"Want to go back to mine?" Louis asks, his voice hoarser than he was expecting. Hayden nods furiously, departing from Louis and grabbing his wrist. 

"Never fucked a celebrity before." He says, sounding very pleased with himself. 

"Well, it must be your lucky day." 

x

Louis wakes up with a very sore ass. 

He hasn't even opened his eyes yet, but it's the first thing he notices. The second thing he notices is an empty space next to him, the sheets clearly used from the previous night. Groaning, he buries his face further into the pillow and tries not to think about the headlines he's just made. 

'Football Star Louis Tomlinson, Now Openly Gay, Finally Gets Laid. Is the World Ending?'

Having a dick up his arse did seem to make him a little more chipper, his stomach not feeling so tight when he finally opens an eye to find the blinds shut, minimal sunlight creeping through. 

The feeling slips away when he realizes that the biggest bloody match of the season is today and he's lying naked in bed with dirty sheets. Nearly shooting out of bed, Louis sprints to the bathroom and turns on the shower, almost too afraid to check the time. He figures he'd be fucking stupid not to, and he's glad he does. It's only nine fifteen. 

The team doesn't have to assemble until eleven. 

Deciding to take his time and wallow in the post-sex aura he is surrounded by, he takes a nearly-scalding hot shower (brushing his teeth beforehand so he doesn't have to ruin it with a sour mouth) and uses his extra expensive soap instead of the mildly expensive soap. Celebrating is a big deal in his household. 

Wrapping a towel around his waist, he steps out of the shower and into the steam-filled room, wrapping a towel around his head too. He wipes off the mirror and looks back at his reflection. 

"Jesus." He huffs, spotting a love bite on his lower neck. Hayden had done some pretty eccentric things last night, but Louis wasn't complaining. He was a good shag and that was it. Zayn was going to give him so much shit for his marked up skin, though. Not to mention the fact that his legs are spread apart much further than normal, a clear indicator of anal penetration taking place the night before. Zayn never had that problem because he always topped, not that Louis really needed to know that or anything. It had somehow slipped its way into what was supposed to be clean, everyday conversation. Liam turned crimson right when the words left his mouth. 

Louis rubs his hand over the purpled skin on his neck and splashes some water on his face, deciding to go for a clean-shaven face today. Facial hair has been his thing for the past couple months, so maybe a fresh face will help him play better. 

His logic isn't always on point. 

After about ten minutes, Louis is feeling like a new man, no scruff in sight. He rinses off his razor and takes the towel off of his head, throwing it in the hamper. The maid will take care of it. 

He walks back into his barren but also incredibly cluttered bedroom and takes off his towel, taking a pair of black boxers and trackies and putting them on instead. "Where's my bloody shirt." He grumbles, looking around his messy room. Any sign of a red shirt would be lovely for him at the moment. 

Snatching up the desired top, which had somehow been kicked halfway under his bed, he throws it on and exits his room, picking up his football bag on the way out of his flat. He has twenty minutes to get to the stadium before his coach will completely obliterate him. For the first time in months, Louis is feeling slightly optimistic.

x

"My god, Lou. You bottomed?" Is the first thing that Louis hears when he walks into the locker room. Zayn is standing in front of him, a friendly sneer on his face. Thankfully, there are only two other players in the room, both of them not paying any attention to the blasphemy leaving Zayn's mouth. 

"Could you maybe not exploit my sex life to the entire city of Manchester?" Louis retorts, brushing past Zayn. He throws his bag onto the bench in front of his locker and sees Zayn practically looming over him. 

"But that's no fun, Tommo." Zayn says happily, ruffling his hair a bit. "Did you have a good night, though?" 

"Yeah. He was quite lovely for a guy who only wanted to fuck." Louis takes his warm-up uniform out of his bag and starts to take off his shirt. 

"Would you call him if you had his number?" Zayn pushes, sitting down on the bench. Louis throws his shirt at him and just grins. "Yes?" 

"Maybe." He shrugs, still smiling. His eyes catch on someone walking into the room and he recognizes the guy to be Harry. "I met Harry, d'you know?" 

"Yesterday?" Zayn says quietly. Louis nods and Zayn's eyebrows raise. "He nice?" 

"Too nice. Bit shy, honestly." Louis is about to tell Zayn about how he is strangely sort of attracted to the laundry boy when Zayn hollers across the room. 

"Harry! Come 'ere!" 

"What the fuck are you doing?" Louis hisses, finally putting on his warm up jersey. Other players are starting to come into the locker room and get changed, so he figures he should probably hurry up. 

Zayn can't respond because within a few seconds, Harry is standing in front of the two looking very uncomfortable. His eyes flick back and forth between Zayn and Louis before he gives them a quiet greeting. 

"Hi." He says, his deep voice rumbling out of him. 

"Zayn." Zayn sticks out his hand and Harry shakes it, giving him a small smile. 

"So I've heard. Harry Styles." Styles. His Last name is Styles. Louis stores that information away for later use and smiles back at Harry. 

"Excited about the game today?" Zayn asks. 

"Yeah. Always been a huge fan of Manchester, so this is kind of cool." Harry is basically leaking rays of sunshine his smile is so big, and also a bit lopsided. Those fucking dimples pop through and Louis coughs. 

"I'm sure cleaning up after sweaty and rude men is exactly how you wanted to spend your late teenage years." Louis jokes. Harry tugs on the bottom of his shirt and laughs. 

"It's not that bad. No one has really said much to me, so I don't think anyone's rude." 

"David Soutar." Zayn starts, rolling his eyes before he continues. "Don't befriend him. Just do yourself a favor and take my word for it." Harry nods and looks back at Louis. 

"You're the first person to introduce themselves to me." He says sheepishly. "Thanks for that. I was a bit uncomfortable at first because I figured you guys would be pissed about having some kid who can't play footy for shit walking around." 

"Nah. We're usually pretty friendly with the entire staff here. Just wait until today when you're water boy too. People will be begging to see you." Louis grins, trying to make Harry feel a bit better. He can remember being new to the team and feeling really fucking alone. He and Zayn were signed at the same time, so they kind of just teamed up and hit it off from there. 

Ben walks into the locker room and the room goes silent. 

"Gentlemen, today is one of the most important days of your career. Don't fuck this up." Harry turns to look at Louis and giggles, making him smile. God fucking dammit. "I have so much faith in you, don't take it all away. I'm really not trying to pressure you- doing a shit job aren't I? But anyway, just do what we've gone over hundreds of times and I swear to god you'll have the championship title. Got it?"

The team murmurs a 'yes' and Ben claps his hands together. "Great. Now get your warm-ups on and head on out. Time to play." He gives a curt nod before retreating back to the hallway and Louis looks at Zayn. 

"I'm going to be sick." He says, suddenly panicking. 

"No you're not. Shut up." Zayn snorts, standing up and pulling his warm ups out of his locker. Harry awkwardly stands there looking between the two, blushing slightly when Louis drops his trackies and replaces them with shorts. 

"My ass hurts too much to play. Is that an excuse." 

"That's your fault. You should've topped." Harry's eyes widen and Zayn starts laughing. "Harry, if you're going to be around us a lot you need to know that Louis, Grimmy, and I are all into guys." 

"Zayn is actually just Liamsexual." Louis throws in, his tone mocking. 

"Yeah, that." Zayn agrees. Harry slowly nods and bites his lip. "I'm not officially out, though."

"Okay. That's cool." His words are like molasses and Louis raises an eyebrow. "What?"

"Nothing." 

"Let's go kick some Liverpool ass." Zayn says before Louis can further interrogate Harry. 

"Good luck." Harry smiles. "You probably won't need it though." 

"Thanks." Louis bites back a grin and follows Zayn out of the locker room, nearly breaking his neck trying to keep it from moving to look back at Harry Styles. 

x

Louis sprints down the pitch, the headband that is holding back his stray hairs nearly falling off of his head. Stan has control of the football, moving it along down the pitch and toward the goal, this very likely being the goal to win the match. Louis can only hope, that is. 

It's 1-1, Manchester holding possession of the ball, giving them an obvious advantage over Liverpool. With twenty seconds left, Louis knows that his team needs to step up their game. After all, this is one of the biggest matches of the season.

Stan passes the ball to Blair and Blair looks around, immediately spotting Louis, who is as open as he'll ever be. Louis moves his arms in a way that basically screams 'give me the fucking ball' and waits for Blair to make his move.

The ball ends up in front of Louis, some pretty handy footwork and a slow Liverpool player giving him enough leeway to attempt to make a goal. Just as he is about to kick, one of Liverpool's star players, Niall Horan, comes up behind him and retrieves the ball, Louis' heart pounding in his chest. He's definitely fucked this up. 

Without thinking, he goes to kick Horan's leg. Luckily, his reaction time is good enough that he actually touches the ball instead of Niall's limb, somehow winning back the football. That seems to be a pattern in his life; getting by without realizing what he's doing until it's too late. 

Ten seconds left and Louis knows that it's now or never. Protecting the ball as if it is his own child (at this point it basically is), he moves closer to the goal, quickly looking at Zayn for guidance. He knows that he has no time to stall, but no one is fucking open. 

After seeing Zayn nod at the goal, Louis takes that as his cue to shoot.

There's a very good reason why he's their star player.

Quickly kicking it between Horan's legs, the ball flies into the corner of the net, the goalie crashing to the ground with a groan. The crowd roars with applause and victory chants as Louis beams, looking over at a laughing Zayn. He loves Zayn a lot.

Time is up and Louis scored. 

Louis has won the match for Manchester. 

He feels someone's arms wrap around his waist and lips in his hair and he immediately recognizes Zayn's scent. "You're so brilliant, you fucker." He laughs into Louis' neck, his other teammates now crowding around him. They're slapping him on the back and telling him how 'bloody fucking amazing' he is and Louis doesn't ever want to do anything else in his life but this. These are the moments he lives for. All of the shitty practices and rumors that pile up are nothing compared to moments like these. 

"Don't cry, mate." Stan says, lightly slapping his cheek. "They're happy tears, right?" 

"Of course they are you wanker." Louis says, his voice crackling. "Love you guys so much." A trophy is shoved into his hands and he can't stop smiling. His face is starting to hurt, actually. Being happy is a lot more work than he remembers. 

"'Atta boy, Tommo!" Ben says, jogging over to Louis' side. The assistant coach, Jon, is next to him looking bright as the fucking sun. "Knew we signed you for a reason!"

"Just did what you told me, coach." He simpers, shrugging off the compliment. Harry sidles up next to Ben and holds out a water bottle, a huge grin on his face. 

"My hero." He sing-songs, clearly having a sense of humor. "Here's a water as a reward for your wondrous deeds." Louis laughs and takes the bottle out of Harry's hand, thanking him after taking a swig. 

"Liking dick clearly hasn't taken its toll on you yet." David says behind Louis. "Nice one, Tommo." Louis isn't sure whether that's an insult or a compliment, so he just goes with the latter. 

"Thank you so much, Soutar. I'm so glad you've changed." He walks away, wanting to avoid any form of negativity at the moment. He's too high off of adrenaline to be put down. 

"I feel like you deserve a congratulatory blow job or something." Zayn says, walking up to Louis again. 

"I would never let you put your lips on my dick even if you were the last man on earth and I was so horny I couldn't see straight." Louis berates. Zayn takes fraudulent offense to that and puts his hand over his heart. 

"Blow jobs are, like, my specialty though." 

"Don't care. It'd be too weird." He starts heading back to the locker room, Zayn in tow, smiling with how well his life is going at the moment. Football season is over, but his team is number one so he really isn't going to complain. 

"You're right. I don't think your dick is as big as Liam's anyway." Louis stops walking and puts his hands on his hips, cocking one side up a bit.

"Excuse me?" He scoffs, his eyes narrowing at Zayn. 

"Sometimes the truth hurts." He says sweetly, holding out his hand. "Need me to help your wounded ego back inside?" Louis sneers at Zayn and walks past him, giving him the finger as he does. People probably think they're insane. 

Once they've showered and changed, the team sits in the locker room and waits for Ben to come in and give his speech. They know it's coming and most of them are dreading sitting through it. Even Harry has to sit through it, considering he has to clean up while Ben speaks. 

"We should throw a party. Invite the entire crew." Zayn suggests, nudging Louis' shoulder. They're sat on the bench in front of their lockers, Louis playing Bejeweled while he waits for Ben's entrance. 

"My house?" Louis asks without tearing his eyes away from the screen. 

"Yeah. S'closer and all that." 

"Tonight?" Louis remembers how messy his flat is and groans. He really hopes the maid came in today. 

"Yeah. No time like the present." 

"Technically it's the future." Louis responds, cursing when his score on his game is shit. 

"Technically you're a prick." Zayn mocks, rolling his eyes. "All you need is beer, maybe champagne, and some crisps honestly. I'll even go out and buy the shit." 

"You had me at you buying." Louis says, locking his phone and shoving it in his pocket when he sees his coaches file into the room. "I'll supply the music."


	4. Chapter Three

'Habits' by Tove Lo is playing throughout Louis' flat when Zayn comes in with two huge cases of expensive beer, Liam following with even more liquor. There is a bag of crisps under each of Liam's arms and Zayn has one between his teeth, making Louis laugh a lot harder than it should. 

"You two are the best." Louis chimes, walking into his kitchen with the other guys. "I barely had to do a thing." 

"I know." Zayn grunts, setting the beer down on the island. "You just picked shitty music and paid your maid to clean up the place." Liam sets down the things in his arms and huffs out a breath. Louis doesn't think Liam should be tired considering he's about ninety percent muscle. It makes him feel like a poof. 

"Hey, it's on 8 Tracks." He defends, taking a bottle out of the case for himself. If he's going to get through the night watching drunk Liam and Zayn be lovesick with each other then he will definitely need to be drunk as well. 

"What's the playlist? Friday night sleepover?" Liam jokes, resting against the granite counter. 

"No, it's just a party mix. I feel like since it's my house I can choose the music." 

"As long as Miley Cyrus doesn't start playing." Zayn mutters before starting to put the beer in the fridge. "Who's coming tonight anyway?" He asks, changing the subject rather abruptly. 

"Erm..." Louis has to think about the anticipated guests for a moment before he can name everyone. He knows for a fact that the entire crew isn't coming (which is sort of a relief). "Stan, Grimmy, Blair, Matt, Ian, Josh, Andy, Ethan, Jeremy, Dan, Ben, Jon, Parker, Michael..." He trails off, knowing that he left one person out. Who on earth... "Harry! That's who I left out." 

"You invited Harry?" Zayn asks, raising an eyebrow. "He's like, fifteen." 

"I thought it would be a good way for him to get to know everyone. He seems a bit uncomfortable with us right now and I want to break him in." What Louis doesn't say is how he is sort of attracted to the bloke even if he is quite a few years older than him. 

"Mate, the season's over, though. I don't even know why they hired him so late. He literally worked for a week." Zayn says, rubbing the scruff on his jawline. 

"We still have practice twice a week, Zayn." Louis points out. "Gotta stay fit somehow." 

"Who's Harry?" Liam asks, completely lost. Louis forgot that Liam doesn't actually have anything to do with the Manchester United club (other than the fact that he's practically married to the captain of the team). 

"New laundry and water boy." Zayn explains. "He's some lanky kid straight from, like, secondary school." 

"Is he aware that there will most likely be weed here?" Liam counters with a concerned expression taking over his features. "Because by the way you're talking, he's some pubescent little guy who will cower in the corner if he even sees a shot of liquor." The doorbell rings and Zayn groans. All that Louis is thinking about is how Harry is anything but a 'little pubescent guy'. How could Zayn be so blind? Is he actually going mad? 

"It's only eight thirty." He goes to the door and judging the way Zayn squeaks with delight, Louis assumes it's either Stan or Andy. His assumptions are confirmed when he sees the two lads pass Zayn and enter Louis' flat, both of them carrying a small case of beer. God, everyone should have enough liquor tonight. 

Two hours later, Louis is definitely sure that everyone has had enough liquor. Every guest but Jon showed up, Louis presuming it is for the better. Maybe having his coaches and managers there isn't the greatest idea, seeing as one tiny slip up could conceivably cost him his career. He decides to push that thought into the back of his mind and keep drinking. Thinking is too much work. 

It isn't until nearly ten thirty that Louis realizes Harry didn't come. He isn't really expecting him to, considering it would be a bit unpleasant for him. 

As if his thoughts lured the boy into his flat, the front door opens and Harry walks in, his cheeks looking flushed. Louis' chest tightens at the sight. The teenager is wearing a gray button-up with the sleeves pushed to his elbows, every single button done up his shirt. Louis' eyes trail down his thin and long legs that are covered by black skinny jeans and end in white Converse and he is feeling faint. Harry's hair is barely pushed off of his forehead, his fringe looking much more styled now than it does at the stadium. Those white polo shirts and khakis Harry has to wear to work really don't do him justice at all. 

Louis doesn't realize he is staring until Harry speaks to him, making him nearly jump out of his skin. 

"Sorry I'm late. Had to wait until my parents went to bed so I could sneak out." Christ. Louis is fawning over a boy who still has to sneak out of the house. A police report with his name on it will surely be filed within the next month.

"It's okay!" Louis says gleefully, cup of beer in hand. "Better late than never! In fact, this is probably the best time to be here. Everyone's smashed and you get to people-watch. You know, have some dirt on all of the players." Louis grins, his eyes most likely glassy from intoxication. He fumbles around with the cup in his hand in attempt at setting it down on the table in front of him. Standing alone in his own dining room is making him look a lot worse than he really is. 

"You've had a bit to drink I take it?" Harry questions, although Louis is almost certain it's rhetorical. 

"Yeah. Couple... bottles." Louis lies. He's had, like, eight. He can literally feel the alcohol thrumming through his body. 

"Oh." Harry rubs his forearm and takes a look around the flat. "You're really rich, aren't you?" Louis barks out a laugh and can feel himself blushing after he quiets himself. 

"Straightforward, aren't you?" He teases. Harry bites his lip and shrugs. "Yeah, I make a good bit every year." He takes another sip of beer and tries not to focus too hard on the way Harry is wringing his hands together out of nerves. Zayn would be an excellent person to distract him. 

"Where the fuck is Zayn." Louis mutters to himself, craning his neck so he has a view of the living area. Of course, Zayn is sat on the couch next to Liam, a blunt in his hand.

"I thought it smelled like weed in here." Harry half smiles, looking over at Zayn as well. 

"Want a hit?" Maybe it's not the best thing to offer him, but he doesn't think Harry is that innocent. For Christ's sake, he looks like a fucking Burberry model. It's not helping the fact that Louis feels like a sexual predator around Harry at all. 

"Maybe in a bit. Can I get something to drink?" He rocks back and forth on his heels and licks his lips. Louis' finger twitches on the outside of his cup. 

"Yeah! Just go get a bottle or pour yourself a cup. I'm going to go into the main room, so... yeah." Harry nods and makes his way into the kitchen, leaving Louis, once again, alone. Deciding to stop feeling sorry for himself for once, Louis actually does go into the main room and stands behind Zayn, leaning down so his mouth is level with his ear. 

"Harry showed up." He mutters, Zayn whipping around to the new voice behind him. 

"You're kidding." Zayn grins, clearly a bit out of it. "Where's he?" Louis nods to the kitchen and Zayn sighs in recognition. Liam looks back at Louis and gives him a warm smile. God only knows what's about to gush out of him. Louis is hoping it's something verbal and not liquid. 

"Zayn says he's in love with me." He breathes, his lips parted slightly. His eyes are locked on Zayn and only Zayn and the only thing Louis can see between them is pure, divine love. There's a slight stabbing feeling in his chest but he ignores the ache and ruffles Liam's hair. 

"So I've heard." Liam and Zayn start moving closer to each other and Louis decides it's time to exit the premises. The last thing he needs is a hard-on caused by his best mates snogging. Yeah, they're his friends and all, but they're still two men. Louis can't help what arouses him. They're fit, too. 

Louis takes a seat on the armrest of the sofa and scans the room, seeing most of the team has brought along their girlfriends. Grimmy is chatting with Blair about something while Blair's girlfriend chats with Matt and his girlfriend. 

The Manchester team really is like a huge family. Everyone gets along for the most part and Louis is so grateful to have the opportunity to play for such a team. The thought leaves him content and with a warm feeling in his chest. 

"You look like you're overthinking something." A deep voice says, startling Louis out of his haze. He looks up to find green eyes staring back at him. 

"Nah, just observing." He shrugs. "Everyone's got someone here with them." 

"Yeah." Harry sounds just as enthusiastic about it as Louis does. He wishes Harry was anything but the laundry boy. "You don't? I figured you would." Louis laughs.

"No, I don't. Zayn offered to blow me after the match today but I turned him down. Can't do that to Liam. You know, ethics and all that good stuff." 

"You're really open when it comes to that kind of stuff, aren't you?" Harry has pink cheeks and Louis realizes he's probably making him a bit uncomfortable considering he's talked about dick in about half of his conversations with him. Zayn thinks he's into guys, but Louis just doesn't know yet. 

"I guess. Never really think about what I'm saying unless it could hurt someone." Louis needs to shut up within the next five seconds or he is going to seriously regret this in the morning. Having a heart-to-heart with Harry is not on the agenda for tonight. "But what about you? You have anyone?" 

"Not really." Harry doesn't continue after that and Louis looks back at him, expecting him to continue speaking. 

"Okay." He wants Harry to tell him more, but he doesn't. Louis isn't going to pry. 

"Yeah." Taking a sip of his drink, Harry scans the crowd of people. He doesn't look too out of place in all honesty. Louis is glad he came. 

"Lou!" Liam yells even though he is two cushions down from him. 

"What." Louis says flatly, looking back at Liam. The room is dim, the pot lights set on the lowest setting possible. 

"Harry is a lot fitter than I imagined. Where the fuck did they find him? A runway?" Louis and Harry's cheeks turn crimson at the same time, Harry's being a tad bit darker than Louis'. God, Liam is just asking to get killed. 

"You need to sleep, mate." Louis laughs, turning back to Harry. Avoiding any more awkward scenarios is his goal for the night. However, he's not positive that he'll reach it. Based on the previous events of the day, he's more set on the night leaving him squirming in his pants. "Sorry. He and Zayn are disgusting when they're intoxicated and together. No control at all." 

"It's alright. A little compliment from a grown man won't kill me." He looks pleased with himself, actually. Fuck, if someone had complimented Louis like that his head would've taken up the entire room. 

"Good, because I feel like you're going to get a few tonight." 

"Is that so? From who?" Harry smirks, eyeing everyone around them. Louis swallows thickly. 

"Well, I can't really say. Get me drunk enough and they might be spilling out of my trap." He regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth and Louis realizes that this was a bad idea. He should not be drunk around someone he thinks is fit. Especially when they're probably still considered a minor and he could be burned at the stake for any form of flirtation. 

"You're going to die if you get any more drunk." Harry jokes, tapping the side of Louis' drink. "I think you lied about having a couple. You look like shit." Louis should take offense to that, but he doesn't. For some reason, his mind takes it as a strange form of praise. 

"It took me two hours to look this shitty." He confesses, pretending to flip his hair. "I'm glad my hard work has paid off." Harry makes an annoyed face that ends up being a smile and laughs lightly. 

"I expected you to be a huge prick." 

"And?" 

"My assumptions were not proven wrong." Louis shoves Harry so he stumbles a bit, but Harry just chuckles. "I could easily push you right off of that sofa. Don't try me." 

"You're bold for a teenager who barely knows anyone here. People could easily just make you leave. You know, being a kid and all. Privileged fuck." 

"I'm 18. I think I'm well past the stage of being the one everyone coddles at parties." Louis nearly drops his beer at the confirmation of Harry being legal. Trumpets are sounding in his head while his exterior remains as neutral as possible. He's only six years older than Harry. That sounds a lot better in his head than it would on paper, but he doesn't fucking care. 

"Hmm." Louis hums, looking straight ahead of him. "I suppose you're right." It's silent for a few moments, the sound of everyone else's separate conversations flooding the room around them. Harry continues drinking his beer and Louis wonders if he will be okay to drive home. He also wonders when exactly any of that became his business. 

"You going to be okay to drive?" Louis asks, looking back at the younger boy. Harry eyes him warily for a moment before nodding. 

"This is the only one I'm having. Promise." He raises his glass to Louis. "Probably won't smoke anyway. I have to leave by midnight." 

"Don't want your parents finding out you went to some elite party?" Louis teases. 

"They would kill me." 

"I remember those days. Snuck out to my boyfriend's house for the first time and my parents found out the next morning when I wasn't in my room. Not a very well thought out plan on my part, but it was worth it." Louis remembers that night very clearly. It was the night he lost his virginity. Around midnight he had sneaked out the back door and gone to his boyfriend James' house. James was his first and, so far, only love. He doesn't consider it real love like Zayn and Liam have, but it was pretty damn close to it. When James moved to America a few months later, Louis was devastated. He was only eighteen at the time and of course he believed he would never find anyone he loved that much ever again. Now that he looks back on it, he may have been right. Their relationship lasted seven months and it was maybe the best seven months of his life.

"You okay?" Harry asks suddenly. Louis' eyes have started to go misty and he hates himself for being drunk in front of Harry. Hates himself for getting upset over a relationship that ended six years ago. Hates himself for being him in general. 

"Yeah. I'm going for a wee. I'll be right back. Make some friends while I'm gone!' He tries to be moderately upbeat, but most likely misses the mark. Fuck it. If Harry thinks he's crazy because of his emotionally damaged self then so be it. He's not a big loss. 

Louis is relieved to find no one occupying his bathroom when he gets to the door, pushing it open and quickly locking it behind himself. He sits down on the toilet seat and leans his head against the wall before shutting his eyes. Everything is just too much. The loud music, the smell of weed, the alcohol in his system, the fact that almost everyone there has someone to turn to. It's barely eleven o'clock and he wants to bail out on his own party. 

He pulls out his phone and texts Zayn, just praying that the twat will detach his face from his boyfriend's for thirty seconds so he can come talk to Louis. 

'come to the bathroom by the dining room'

He sits and waits, giving up hope after five minutes. Empty is the only word to describe what Louis is feeling. Crying isn't an option and drinking more liquor is probably an even worse thing to do. That's the reason he's being such a baby in the first place. After a certain amount of beer he gets extremely thoughtful and it doesn't ever end up benefitting anyone. 

Someone knocks on the door and Louis is six seconds away from punching whoever is on the other side of it. 

"Louis?" Stan's voice is instantly recognizable and Louis decides he can tolerate him for a couple minutes. Walking over to the door, he turns the knob and greets his teammate with a synthetic smile. 

"Sorry, Lucas. Had a bit to drink." Stan eyes him curiously and pushes him back into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. "What-"

"Mate, you look like hell washed over you." Stan interrupts. 

"I told you I've had a bit to drink." 

"Don't pull that card, Tomlinson. You're one of my better friends and I know when you're plastered. This is not the face of a plastered Louis Tomlinson." He motions his hands toward Louis' head and Louis gulps. 

"Stan, you don't know what you're talking about. I'll drink some water, maybe eat some bread, and I'll be fine. Go back to Amelia. She's probably lost without you. Right couple you two are." Louis examines the black and white spotted marble beneath his feet, avoiding Stan's eyes. 

"I care about you, okay? You've been a bit... off lately." Louis knows that Stan can see right through him and he hates it. Stan is definitely one of his closer friends, he could even be considered part of his and Zayn's group sometimes, but he doesn't want his pity at all. Telling people your problems is a recipe for disaster. 

"I can promise you, mate, that I'm fine. Just a bit stressed about the cup and all. Now that it's over I feel great." Louis assures his friend. Stan still seems wary of the words leaving his mouth but he doesn't push it. If anyone is going to clam up tightly and be almost impossible to pry open, it's Louis. 

"You're positive." Stan says, giving Louis that 'look' that says "you're so full of shit but I'm going to pretend you aren't". 

"Never been more certain about anything in my life." 

"Okay." 

"Are we going back to the party or what? This celebratory haze isn't going to last forever." Louis opens the bathroom door and Stan still looks skeptical, but he walks out of the room anyway. 

They walk back to the party together and Louis sees Zayn passed out on Liam's lap. That would explain the whole ignored-texts thing. 

"Did he die blowing you?" Louis asks walking up to Liam. Liam looks about half-dead as well, his eyes red-rimmed and glassy. 

"I wish. He's just..." Liam trails off, looking down at Zayn fondly. "Soft." That's not exactly the adjective Louis would use to describe his friend but Liam is probably too out of it to care. Zayn does look pretty cuddlesome when he's passed out. He doesn't do that thing where he makes his facial features harsh all of the time. "Grimmy's made a new friend." 

Louis looks behind him and sees Grimmy, Ben, and Harry chatting amiably about something. "Nah. He and Harry already knew each other." 

"Hmm." Liam hums, bending over in what looks like a very uncomfortable position to rest his forehead on Zayn's temple. 

"You're inebriated beyond belief." 

"So're'you." Liam slurs together, sounding like he's about to pass out as well. He's not wrong about the drunkenness, though. 

"Everyone is." Ethan pipes up behind him. He's standing against the taupe wall with his model girlfriend, his arm around her waist. "Gotta call a cab soon." 

"It's not even midnight!" Jeremy exclaims next to him. "Tosser." 

"Grace wants to go home so we're going to go home." Ethan explains, holding Grace closer to him. She giggles and wraps her arms around his waist. Louis doesn't know why he's watching this exchange. 

"You're whipped as fuck." Parker joins in. He's laughing too and Ethan narrows his eyes at him. 

"I love her." He snaps. Everyone needs to leave. Someone is going to throw a punch soon and they haven't even made it to Sunday yet. Louis doesn't want to be the one held responsible for a murder under his roof, even if he technically had nothing to do with it. He would have to move, too, considering someone would have died in his flat. Moving is such a hassle. 

Louis' brain hurts.

Everyone needs to leave. 

"Lads, if you're going to fight over this, I'd suggest you take it outside." He says, stepping closer to the three. They look at him simultaneously and he fights his instincts to step back and stays put. 

"We're not going to fight over it. He's just a pussy." Jeremy laughs. Ethan's jaw tightens and Louis really needs to get them out of there. 

"I'll call you guys a cab, yeah? You seem a bit bombed." 

"Thanks man." Parker says cheerfully, slapping Louis on the back. "Party's been a blast." 

"I try, I try." His fingers fumble a bit with the keys on his phone and he's seeing double, but Louis still manages to call the cab service and ask for three separate cabs, all delivered to his complex. It's a bit of weight off of his shoulders, but he still has about twenty more people to kick out. He wishes Zayn was awake. 

"They'll be here in ten." He announces, receiving nods from the three men who have gone back to normal, everyday chatter. 

Louis scopes out the room for someone to speak to, his eyes landing on Josh and Dan. He strides over to them and hopes they don't mind his presence too much. 

"I need a new drumset anyway." Josh says, shrugging. He has a snapback on backwards and a Green Day t-shirt on, making him look a lot more punk than Louis remembers. 

"Having a nice time, lads?" He interrupts. Dan and Josh look at him and nod. 

"Just catching up with Dan." Josh replies, motioning toward the man next to him. "Thinking of starting a band with him and two other guys. Just need a singer." He laughs and so does Dan, but Louis doesn't get what's so funny. His head is starting to spin and he needs to lie down. 

"You should do it. Don't quit the team though. We need you on defense." Louis adds, becoming aware of what a catastrophe it would be for Dan and Josh to refuse to renew their contracts. They are Manchester's best defenders by a mile and they cannot afford to lose them. If they want to play well next season, they can't change anything about their team really. 

"Hell no. Would never quit!" Dan says, looking like Louis just insulted him. "Just a thing to do on the side. Thinking of getting that Horan bloke from Liverpool to sing for us. Heard he's got a set of pipes on him." 

"How the hell would you get him to consider it? He probably hates every member of our team." Louis asks, genuinely curious as to how they're going to pull this off. Niall doesn't exactly seem like the most cordial person alive, but what does Louis know. He could be a walking riot.

"Just ask him. Can't be that scary. For Christ's sake, he's just a footy player." Josh has a point. Louis hates when people treat him differently because he's somewhat famous. He dips his chips in his milkshakes like any other human being. 

"Okay, but do you even know him?" 

"No." Dan says like that's not a big deal at all. "But what better reason to get to?" It makes enough sense to Louis that he isn't going to question it further. 

"What would you call the band?" 

"Mate, we haven't thought that far." Josh snorts, looking at the ceiling. "This whole thing is just abstract as of now. When we're selling out arenas you'll know." 

"I suppose I will." Louis retorts. He's actually feeling sort of optimistic for his friends. 

"That's the spirit. Gotta have someone who's keeping the faith." Dan grins, clapping Louis on the shoulder. "Anyway, I think the missus and I are going to head out soon. She has to go to a baby shower tomorrow and I don't want her to be tired." 

"So chivalrous." Josh comments with a smile. "Holly and I will probably head out as well, then." That was a lot easier than Louis predicted. His body can practically feel the sheets against his skin. 

"Alright. Have a nice night, guys." Louis bids them farewell and moves on to another group of people.

The night goes on from there, almost everyone trickling out by twelve thirty. The only people left are Grimmy, Zayn, Liam, and Harry. Zayn and Liam will most likely sleep over, so he's mostly just waiting on Nick and Harry to leave. There's just no nice way of kicking people out of your house. 

Louis has sobered up a tiny bit within the past thirty minutes, so he's a little more coherent now. His vision is back to normal for the most part and he can speak a little better. 

"What time is it?" Harry asks, looking around for a clock. His eyes are drooping and he looks absolutely wrecked. One drink definitely was not his limit, but everyone breaks promises. 

"Almost one." Nick says, his ass planted firmly on the ground against the wall. He and Harry are sitting the same way, both of them with their knees pulled to their chests. They resemble schoolgirls and it makes Louis chuckle. 

"Fuck." Harry curses under his breath. "I need to go home. If my parents wake up they'll assassinate me." He stands up but Nick pushes him back down to the floor. 

"You can't drive you twat. You're boozed up." He scolds. Harry rests his head against the wall and groans. 

"Call me a cab." He pleads, looking straight at Louis. Louis looks back at Nick, who looks equally as smashed as the rest of them. Zayn and Liam are still dead on the couch and likely won't move until the sun comes up. 

"You two can just stay here. I mean, I have two other bedrooms that never get used by anyone but Zayn and Liam." Nick makes a disgusted noise at that and Louis laughs. "Don't worry. I laid down some strict rules indicating that there is no fucking allowed under my roof." Harry and Nick both laugh at that and Louis pats himself on the back. Even if he is a sad fuck, he still has his sharp sense of humor.

"You're sure?" Harry asks. 

"Of course I'm sure. It's no big deal, honestly. As long as you aren't plotting my murder or something." 

"I would never." Harry smiles, standing up. "However, I may need to if you don't direct me to the loo." Louis really likes Harry Styles. 

"There's one down here by the dining room and one upstairs across from the guest bedrooms." Louis directs Harry with his hand (which is probably unnecessary).

"I've never seen a flat with two floors. You rich people are insane." He scoffs, moving along to the glass spiral staircase. 

"I have a feeling you're about to experience a lot of things you've never dreamed of, Styles." Louis winks. Harry grins and shakes his head until he disappears up the stairs, leaving Louis a smiling ball of sunshine. 

"You have a little crush on Harry, do you?" Grimmy says slyly, nudging Louis' shoulder. When did he get there? 

"Fuck off, Nick. I just don't want him to feel weird, being new and all. Someone has to treat him well." It's not completely false. He does not have a crush on Harry at all. He simply wants him to be comfortable around the team. 

Yeah.

"Whatever, mate. You're full of steaming shit." Grimmy follows Harry upstairs, leaving Louis muttering profanities and alone with Zayn and Liam. He looks over at the two and can't help but smile. 

They're going to get married one day. 

"Fucking gross." He says fondly, walking past the pair and up the stairs. Cleaning up is for Sunday afternoon. Right now he just needs his mattress and a good night's sleep.

x

Louis wakes up at ten the next day and throws his pillow at the sunlight. 

It hits the window and falls to the floor with a soft 'thud', not giving him nearly as much satisfaction as he'd hoped. 

He hears commotion downstairs and remembers that people had actually stayed the night after his party. Greeting his guests would probably be a good idea. Bad hostess skills if he doesn't, anyway. 

Throwing his duvet back, Louis groans and stretches out his limbs. His head hurts and his eyes won't open all the way but, hell, that's the indicator of a very good night. It takes him a minute to actually get out of bed, the ceiling looking much more interesting than what the day has in store. He feels like he's going to vomit.

After finally willing himself to get up and brush his teeth, Louis is walking down the staircase and into the kitchen. Grimmy, Zayn, and Liam all look at him, giving him a nod as a greeting. Not exactly the entrance of a king. 

"About time you're up." Zayn says, clutching onto his coffee mug. His hair is disheveled and he has a lovebite on his neck. Louis wonders when exactly that one was made but then he remembers how he doesn't care. 

"I pay the bills here. I can get up whenever I want." He walks over to his coffee maker and gets himself a mug, making it more cream than coffee. The thing was a gift and he only uses it on rare occasion (only because he's too lazy to actually make the beverage). Tea is his forte. 

"Harry left before anyone woke up. Probably wanted to get in bed before his parents found his lack of presence." Grimmy explains. Ah, Harry. Louis wondered where he was. 

Liam starts crunching on cereal and Louis nods. 

"Don't want him to get in trouble after his first party experience." Louis laughs. He sits himself on his kitchen island and faces the other three, his face still puffy with sleep. Liam has his hip pressed against Zayn's and he can see Zayn's fingers picking at one of Liam's belt loops. 

"First? You really haven't spoken to him, have you?" Grimmy chuckles, looking at Louis like he's a blithering idiot. 

"What do you mean?" Louis shoots back. Of course he's spoken to him. What the hell does Nick think they were doing last night? Sure, Louis doesn't know his life story, but it would be a little odd if he did, wouldn't it? That would be crossing over into obsessive territory. 

"He's not an innocent child." Nick scoffs, a smile on his face. "Let me ask you something." He pauses. "Do you think Harry Styles is a virgin?" Louis hasn't ever really thought about that. Harry doesn't seem like the type of guy who would whole-heartedly enjoy an orgy or anything, but he doesn't seem like the type who would be content with not putting his dick in someone for eighteen years either. 

"No." Louis answers after a few seconds. "He's too..." He catches himself before he says 'fit', and thank god he does. The three other men in the room stare back at him, waiting for an ending to his statement. "Smooth." 

Safe.

"Good. Don't want you giving him a squeaky clean reputation or anything." Nick winks. "He's a bit of a..." Louis raises his eyebrows and Nick's face scrunches. "Beatnik. That's the word." 

"Beatnik?" Liam asks. He looks about as confused as Louis, but apparently Zayn is ultra-knowing and is familiar with the word. Of course. 

"Free-spirited. Kind of the boho, indie, you-don't-know-any-of-my-favorite-bands type of person?" He explains. Christ, Louis should've seen it coming. 

Harry Styles is a nonconformist. 

"Oh my god. I've befriended a flower child." Louis slumps back and whines at the ceiling, setting his coffee on his stomach. He's pretty sure it's left a ring on his shirt but hey. Life is a battle. 

"Now, don't start judging the lad. He's pretty fucking top if you ask me." 

"Does he top?" Zayn snickers, making Liam and Louis crack up as well. So far, Harry has been nothing but a mystery to Louis and that includes his sexuality. He is dying to ask Nick, but it may sound a bit too obvious to throw into casual conversation. 

Fuck it.

"Is he into guys?" Louis catches a glimpse of Zayn's face after he asks and it looks like he's won the fucking lottery. "What?"

"You fancy him." The smile on Zayn's face couldn't be slapped off with a wooden board. 

"I do not. I was just wondering." God, he hopes those acting classes he took during sixth form are finally being put to use. His mother paid for those for a reason. 

"No, no, I know that tone. Don't even try to get out of this." Zayn wags his finger at him and Louis wants to rip it off of his body. Fuck Zayn and his extrasensory abilities. He has an advantage over everyone he comes into contact with just by his looks, but that intuition is the silent killer. 

Louis doesn't know what to say. Anything that comes out of his mouth will be used against him. Not to mention the pressure being put on him is tripled due to the fact that there are three people staring at him, not just Zayn. 

"Ah, silence is also conversation." Zayn's grin widens to an impossible length and Louis cracks. 

"He's fit, okay? You can't blame me for thinking so." So there it is. Out in the open. 

Louis fancies Harry. 

It's no big deal at all. Love wasn't declared. The earth is still spinning. Everything is okay. 

"True." Nick contemplates. "But he's 18. You're 24, almost 25." 

"Nick, you dated a sixteen year old last year." Liam accuses, his voice light. "I don't think you're exactly fit for giving relationship advice." 

"Who said anything about a relationship?" Louis squeaks. Love interests are his least favorite things to talk about, especially when they involve him. Plus, commitment sounds a bit intimidating at the moment. 

"Just planning for the future, that's all." 

"You guys are ridiculous. Do you know how many people I find quite attractive? Hell, I think Zayn is hot and I'm not shagging him." Zayn smirks at that and Liam punches his arm. 

"Because you don't have the option." Nick raises his glass and shrugs. "Mate, you're fucked." 

"That's total bullshi-"

"Shhh. It's going to be okay." Nick coos teasingly. "We'll coddle you through your first love." Louis almost snorts at that phrase, knowing that it's the furthest thing from the truth. Zayn doesn't even know about James, so why would Nick?

"Tossers." Louis mutters, turning his mug over in the sink next to him. He's already done with the day and it's barely started. Nothing new, he supposes. Just routine.


	5. Chapter Four

It's October 28th and it is also a Wednesday. 

Wednesdays are practice days. 

Louis wants nothing more than to lie under his covers and feel sorry for himself, but he does have a job after all. These covers wouldn't be on top of him if it weren't for his job. That's enough motivation to get himself out of bed. 

He pulls into the parking garage at 12:56pm exactly, giving him about two minutes to get dressed and one to act like he's been there for the past ten. Strategies like this are the reason he's made it this far in life. 

Limiting himself to a fast walk (straining himself before practice is just foolish), Louis makes it to the locker room within thirty seconds, nearly knocking Parker over in the process. 

"Sorry!" Louis says hurriedly, making his way over to his locker. Zayn is leaning against his, a scowl on his face. Louis wants to know, but he also doesn't. Knowing Zayn, it's probably some melodramatic tragedy that is actually equivalent to a spilled glass of milk. 

"Running late?" Stan says behind him, clearly dressed and ready to go. Louis rips his shirt off and grunts, throwing on his practice jersey in record time. 

"A bit. I swear someone put glue in my bed." He pulls down his trackies and pulls up his mesh shorts, grabbing his socks and cleats out of his locker. 

"Oh, okay. Clinomania." 

"Exactly." 

"Pitiful." Stans grins, shaking his head.

Everyone starts leaving the locker room, including Stan, the second Louis slips on his cleats, giving him maybe twenty seconds to tie them. God, his blood pressure hasn't been this high since the time he walked in on Zayn and Liam. Mental scars are the ones that hurt the most.

Zayn is still sulking against the lockers when Louis stands up to leave and Louis wants to slap him upside the head. 

"What's wrong, Zaynie?" Louis pouts, crossing his arms. 

"Liam." He says, his voice sounding drained. 

"And?" Louis is actually starting to worry now. Liam and Zayn never fight. It's never serious, anyway. He's pretty sure they've only had one major fight in the two years they've been together, and it ended within a day. Zayn kissed Louis when they were drunk and Liam kind of hit Louis. They've put it past them, but Louis is pretty sure Liam is still holding a grudge to this day. 

"He said no." Zayn looks like he's going to cry and Louis' stomach drops at the heaviness of his words. Please, for the love of god, do not mean the "no". 

"No to what?" Louis already knows the answer even if Zayn didn't bother to tell him what he was going to do. His heart hurts for his friend. 

"He doesn't want to marry me." Zayn's eyes are wet now and Louis wonders why the fuck Liam would decline his proposal. It's clear that they love each other immensely. Louis always figured they were soul mates. 

"Zayn..." Louis says with pity, wrapping his arms around him. Zayn tenses underneath him but eventually gives in, burying his face into Louis' shoulder. He starts to cry and Louis feels like shit. 

Zayn Malik does not cry. 

Ever. 

"Shit." Louis sighs, running his fingers through the hair at the nape of Zayn's neck. "When did you ask?"

"This morning." Zayn chokes. Louis will personally strangle anyone who walks into the room right now, understanding or not. If his coach gives him hell for being late, he will also strangle him. Everyone is going to be strangled. 

"What exactly happened?" 

It takes Zayn a few seconds to compose himself, but when he does, he moves back from Louis' grip and leans against the lockers. He looks like a trainwreck. 

"We were just lying in bed this morning and he was watching TV. I was looking at him and he's just so beautiful, you know? Like, I want to paint murals of him everywhere I love him so much. He makes me want to be a better person." There are tears streaming down Zayn's cheeks and he looks desperate for some form of joy or positivity to cling onto. "It sort of just came out of my mouth. It wasn't planned or anything, but my body just kind of reacted. When I said it, he muted the TV and looked at me." He starts crying a bit harder and Louis can't do anything but stand there. He's never seen Zayn so torn up in his life. 

"He said, 'Zayn, babe. I love you. I love you so fucking much. I just can't right now, okay?'" He kicks the locker with his heel and starts shaking his head. "What the fuck does that mean? We've been fucking dedicated to each other for two years! He told me he was okay with being with another man! I just don't fucking understand why he froze up and did that." 

The door to the locker room creaks open and Louis turns around so quickly he nearly falls over. 

"Get the fuck ou-" Harry is standing there like a deer in headlights, his body paralyzed. Louis supposes seeing sultry Zayn Malik looking like a bag of soggy gardening soil is a bit surprising, but it's also none of Harry's business. "Harry." Louis sighs, rubbing his hand on the side of his face. "Sorry, mate. Just... Give us a few minutes?" 

"Ben sent me in. I'm sorry, Lou." When did he start calling Louis, Lou? "His exact words were, 'tell Malik and Tomlinson to get out here before I have to go in there.' I think that's a threat, so... Yeah." He swallows thickly and looks back and forth between Zayn and Louis, not sure what to make of the situation. 

"Can you tell him we're having a bit of an emotional crisis. Wouldn't be wise to go out and play right now." Louis tries, nodding his head toward Zayn. Harry nods and runs his hand through his hair nervously. 

"Yeah. Sorry, guys. Just... Whatever's going on, I hope it gets better." Without wanting to hear a response, Harry exits the room and leaves the two alone again. Louis didn't strangle Harry and he's wondering why his body doesn't even let him consider it. 

"We should go out there." Zayn says, wiping his wet eyes on his jersey. 

"You sure you're okay to go out there and run around? I'm sure Ben won't actually murder us. We're like star players, after all."

"Your ego will kill me before he does." Zayn mutters, clearly stable enough to start cursing Louis. 

"That's the spirit. I knew Zayn was in there somewhere." Louis slaps Zayn's arm and ruffles his already disheveled hair. "Now. Don't ever fucking cry like that in front of me again. I was ready to call the paramedics." 

"Sorry." Zayn sniffles, a grin forming on his face. "Doesn't happen often." 

"I know. That's why it's bloody terrifying. I figured your mum died or something. Love that woman to pieces, y'know?"

"I think I have an idea." Zayn scoffs, rolling his eyes. Louis chuckles and nods his head to the doorway, motioning for Zayn to follow him out to the pitch. The two file out into the sunlight and wait for their forty lashes, but they never come. 

"You alright, Malik?" Ben yells from the bench. Zayn gives him a thumbs up and nods, earning the same in return from his coach. 

Louis knows that his best mate is undoubtedly not okay, but for the sake of football he is. 

Louis is going to obliterate Liam the next time he sees him. 

x 

He's not sure how it happened, exactly, but he's not about to complain. 

Somehow, Harry got his number and has been texting him for the past two hours. Louis' been sitting in his mum's living room for these two hours, smiling at his phone like a complete lunatic. Any passersby have either been very concerned or very sickened by the surely giddy expression he has been sporting. 

"You've been on your arse the entire time you've been here." Lottie groans, sitting down next to him. "At least speak to me." Louis glances up at his seventeen-year-old sister and waves. 

"Hey, Lots! Where've you been?" The roll of her eyes gives Louis the answer he wants and he purses his lips. 

"Right. Yes. I've spoken to mum, I swear. She left to pick up the girls, what? An hour ago?" 

"She's home, twat." Lottie laughs. "Been home for twenty minutes." Louis does not remember anyone entering that door next to the couch at any point in time. Harry is already ruining his life. "Who have you been talking to, anyway? Do you finally have some model boyfriend I can ogle at when you bring him 'round?" 

"No, actually, I don't." Louis responds sharply. "Do you?" Lottie narrows her eyes and studies him for a moment. 

"No. I don't." Pause. "Give me your phone." 

"What the fuck? No?" Louis says pretty close to immediately. His sister raises an eyebrow and he's clearly raised speculation. "Got some stuff on here." 

"You don't have nudes or anything gross, do you." She says with scorn. 

"Jesus, no. I just don't like people looking through my stuff, okay?" He knows he acting like a teenager but he can't help it. He certainly feels like one with this Harry Styles shit floating around. There's not enough room in his life for all of this stress. 

"Fine." She sneers, sitting back onto the back cushion of the sofa. Louis' phone buzzes in his hand and both of them look at it then look at each other. It's silent for a few seconds before Lottie breaks it. "You going to answer that?" 

"Not with you next to me." Louis mutters, scooting to the furthest possible spot on the end of the couch. 

"You're twelve." 

"You're getting on my nerves." She doesn't say anything to that, so Louis goes back to his phone. When he unlocks it, he sees one word before the screen is gone. "Fucking-"

"Harry Styles." Lottie reads aloud. "I fucking knew it." 

They hear their mum scold Lottie from the kitchen and, ah, yes, she is home. 

"Give me the phone now and you will see your eighteenth birthday. Promise." 

"This is definitely worth dying for, mate." She cackles, scrolling through the messages. Louis wants to bathe in lava. His entire life is a joke. 

"Damn." Her face has gone from venomous to perplexed and she actually looks some twisted version of happy. "This is really cute, Lou. You two, oh my God." She's scrolled to the beginning of the conversation and Louis decides to let her have it. Sisters always win. 

"What part are you at?" He wants to know but he also really doesn't want to know at all. Maybe if he hits his head against the wall enough he'll die and never have to think about this situation again. 

"He's studying... Louis." She stops abruptly, turning her head to face him. "How old is he?" Louis folds his hands on his chest and tries not to rip open at the seams. 

"He's, erm, eighteen." Silence. Lottie has a pokerface and Louis is genuinely considering trying the head bashing thing. It's quiet for a second too many before Louis can't stand it anymore. "He's legal."

"Fucking hell." Lottie snorts. "Yeah, barely. I never knew you were a cradle-robber." 

"I am not." He defends. "It's not like I'm twenty years older than him. For Christ's sake." This is a bad idea and Louis is completely aware of it. But, fuck, he can't help who he likes. 

"Six is kind of gross, though. Don't you think?" 

"No. We aren't even a thing, Lottie. Why are we discussing this when Harry and I are strictly friends?" Louis stands up from the couch and grabs his phone back from his sister. "I'm going to go visit mum now. So... fuck off." 

"Louis Tomlinson!" His mother berates from the other room. "I don't care if you're grown and famous. You still have younger sisters who look up to you." Louis rolls his eyes and sees Lottie hiding her laughter. 

"And she wonders why you never visit." She giggles.

"Don't know why I moved at all, honestly." 

x 

"What exactly were you two cursing excessively about?" Johannah asks, twirling her pasta on her fork. Louis and Lottie continue chewing their dinner and avoid eye contact with their mother. At least Lottie understands the sibling code. 

"Why can Lottie use bad words but we can't?" Phoebe whines, pouting into her pasta. 

"Lottie is a lot older than you, darling. She's not supposed to be using those kinds of words, though." Lottie suppresses a smile and shrugs. 

"Louis is a terrible influence, mum. He's turning me into a punk."

"I am not. You've been terrible for as long as I can remember." Louis retorts, shoving spaghetti into his mouth. 

"That's incredibly rude." She scoffs, still smiling. 

"Bet Louis' got himself a boyfriend." Felicite says slyly from the end of the table. The twins giggle at that and Johannah raises an eyebrow. 

"No, no boyfriend." It's not a total lie. He and Harry aren't dating at all. They're just mates. Harry is Louis' hot and young friend. "We were just catching up on all of the arguing we missed out on while I was away." Lottie opens and shuts her mouth, apparently momentarily forgetting that Louis will slaughter her if she utters a word about Harry Styles. 

"Yeah. Got it out of our systems today. Probably best, you know?" Johannah doesn't buy it completely, but Louis thinks she'll stop asking. Thankfully, she does. 

"I'm glad you two can still bond then. Zayn doesn't speak with his sisters very often now, does he?" 

"No, not as much as he should. He talks to his mum loads, though." At least Louis is better at communicating than Zayn. He's convinced his mum loves Zayn more than she loves her own son, but he has some dirt on him that levels out the affection. 

"He and Liam doing well then?" Johannah asks, raising an eyebrow. Louis continues chewing his food and shrugs. "Oh no. What does that mean?"

"Zayn proposed and Liam said no. It was quite the scene, apparently. Zayn had what seemed to be pretty close to a mental breakdown at practice. Got his shit together when Harry walked in though." Louis chokes on his words after he realizes that he's brought up Harry. Curse everything.

"Who's Harry?" Lottie stares at Louis and Louis stares back, both of them giving each other warning glares. 

"Just the laundry boy. He started right before the season ended." Louis replies simply. No harm done there. 

His phone rings and he nearly hits the ceiling. 

The twins giggle as he fumbles for his phone, his mother surely ready to skin him alive for interrupting family dinner. Harry's name is plastered across the screen and of course it would be. When does the universe ever have anything good in store for him?

"Erm, business call. Sorry." He ignores the huff coming from three separate females and darts out of the room, finally answering once he's in the bathroom. "Hello?"

"Louis. Hi." Harry's voice crackles through the receiver and Louis feels faint. He sounds slightly off. 

"Everything okay?" Why on earth is Harry calling him? Shouldn't he be worrying about things other than Louis? 

"Yeah, um, I was just..." He trails off, leaving Louis both frustrated and endeared. Christ, he's too old for this. Louis waits for Harry to start speaking again, but he just hears some fumbling around on the other end. 

"Just?" He teases. There's another voice muffled on the other end of the line and Louis' mind is definitely not going to extremes. 

"You'll be at practice tomorrow, right?" He says quickly. Louis raises an eyebrow and kneads his forehead. 

"Yeah. 'Course." 

"Good. Look, I'm sorry for calling. I feel really stupid, actually, but these- I'm going to hang up now, if that's okay." He cuts himself off. This entire scenario has been tense and Louis really wants to know what's going on in Manchester. 

If Harry is in some form of trouble, why would he call Louis of all people? 

Louis decides to push the thought into the back of his mind and goes back to the dinner table. 

"Alright then." He smiles, sitting back down. All of the girls plus his mom are just staring at him, annoyed expressions on their faces. "What? I'm an important man." 

"You're a cocky and rich prick." Lottie says under her breath. Louis narrows his eyes and folds his arms across his puffed-out chest.

"Yeah, well that money is part of the reason your hair is that color and your clothes are that nice." He says back, his tone verging on icy. Sometimes Lottie is just a flat out bitch. 

"I appreciate it." 

"You two are the reason I have so many gray hairs this young." Jay mutters, lightly tugging at her roots. 

"There are too many girls here." Fizzy says with a frazzled look on her face. "I'm excusing myself from the table." No one even tries to fight with her as she walks upstairs to her room. They hear the door click shut then Daisy breaks the silence. 

"Louis, why don't you have a beard anymore?" 

"I'm going for the chiseled Greek god look." He says seriously. "Is it working?"

"Not in a million years." Lottie snorts. 

"Thank you, Lots. I'm glad I have your support." 

"Anytime."

x

Louis is sweaty. Sweat is dripping into his eyes and mouth and down his bare chest and he doesn't know how people can actually enjoy working out. 

"You're a glistening god." Zayn says in what is supposed to be an amazed tone. 

"If only this were stripper glitter." He scoffs, grabbing a towel from the stack Harry had placed on a chair in the beginning of the session. Ben had called a spontaneous "team fitness day" last week and, of course, the week flew by and now Louis is here wanting to die. Really, why does the team need a fitness day? Aren't their practices bad enough? 

"Yeah, I'm sure you'd love that." Zayn says under his breath. 

"Excuse me, Zayn. I haven't seen a stripper in the flesh for almost three months now. It was a fucking killer night, though. First time I snorted cocaine. I was terrified the league would spring a drug test on me. Can you imagine?" 

"You'd have to move into my guest room with too many throw pillows and listen to Liam and I suck on each other's arseholes all night." 

"Fuck, Zayn. If I ever need to be talked out of doing drugs, just hit me with that again." Louis grimaces, clutching his stomach as if he were nauseous. 

"My words have been proven to be influential." Zayn says with pride. He starts walking toward the showers and Louis follows, his hair sticking up in hundreds of different directions after he mussed it with his towel. "Hey, did you ever figure out why Harry called you?"

"Nope. He never brought it up and I never asked. At practice the next day he just acted like nothing had happened so I went with it."

"Weird."

"I know. Speaking of, is he here today?" Zayn's eyes narrow a bit and a smirk slithers onto his face. "Jesus fucking Christ, Zayn. It's not like that." 

"Are you sure? He seems to worm his way into a lot of our conversations. And you look kind of dazed when he is here. Sure seems like it's like that." Fuck Zayn and his ability to read people. Maybe if he wasn't such a deep and tragic motherfucker Louis could keep things from him. No wonder Liam is obsessed.

"Fuck off." Louis grumbles, stripping off his sweat-soaked clothes. "'M gonna take a shower."

"Just don't be moaning Harry's name at the end of it." 

Louis ignores the comment and steps into the shower, turning on the icy cold water. It feels good on his flaming hot skin as it drips down him, washing away the disgusting smell of athleticism. Zayn is right. It is like that. 

Good Lord. Louis is one-hundred percent pining after a teenager. 

x

"So let's run through this again." Zayn says, rubbing his hands together nervously. They're in Louis' kitchen, Zayn leaning against the stainless steel island, Louis sitting on the floor with his knees drawn to his chest and his arms lazily resting over them. 

"Zayn, man, it's going to be fine. I promise. He loves you." Louis says for what feels like the millionth time in twenty minutes. 

"Liam, I'm sorry I put you on the spot like that. I made a proper tit out of myself and I just want you to be comfortable with me. Don't think I'm going to be pressuring you from now on because, really, if you're happy dating like this then I am too. It just kind of came out of me and I really understand that you aren't ready for that kind of commitment. It was stupid and foolish and dumb and every other synonym for idiotic that I can think of. You're the love of my life, but I'll always wait for you. That's a promise." Zayn looks worn out and Louis doesn't blame him. He's been reciting the same lines since they got home an hour ago. Zayn is freaking out because Liam hasn't contacted him all week. 

"He's probably packed up his shit and gone." "Quit being ridiculous. He's probably getting home from work right now wondering if you're ever coming back." "I know him. He's gone."

It's been a great hour. 

Louis really wanted to discuss the whole 'Harry' situation, but Zayn looked pretty down and Louis wasn't about to drone on and on about himself in a time like that. He's not that self-centered. 

"I'm pretty sure that anything you say is going to make things right again. Unless you call Liam a waste of space or something." Zayn looks horrified that Louis could even string 'Liam' and 'waste of space' in the same sentence. "See, there isn't even a chance of the latter happening, You're golden."

"I'm so nervous to even go back home. Can I crash here again?" Zayn has been staying at Louis' since he was shot down by Liam and, okay, Louis doesn't mind having him, but he's grown used to living alone.

"Fine. At least my beds aren't excessively decorated. I'm really hoping that shit wasn't your idea."

"Thank you so much, Tommo." Zayn says sounding genuinely thankful for Louis' existence. He kneels down in front of him and wraps him up in a hug.

"Don't make it weird." Louis says after a few seconds of Zayn practically lying on top of him. It just prompts Zayn to squeeze even tighter. There's a knock at the door and they break apart, Louis lifting himself off of the floor. "Who in their right mind is bothering us right now." Louis thinks out loud. He opens the door and someone brushes past him so quickly he only knows who it is because of how muscular they are.

"Yes." Zayn's head snaps up about the same time Louis' does and both of their jaws drop. 

Liam is standing about six feet in front of Zayn. 

Louis can't remember how to speak, and apparently neither can Zayn. 

"Yes, Zayn. Yes." Zayn blinks a couple times before he lands back in reality. 

"Yes?" God, Louis hopes this is the 'yes' and not some yes to sirloin steak for dinner or something. 

"It's always been you. I knew it from the second I saw you in that alley. It's been you since the first time we kissed. I missed you for twenty-one years and I refuse to miss you for the next twenty-one. Yes, Zayn. I want to marry you." Zayn looks like someone just told him he was going to be grilled for dinner. "I mean, if the offer is still on the table."

"Of course it's still on the fucking table." Zayn launches himself onto Liam, wrapping his thin legs around his waist and covering his face in kisses. Louis closes the door and almost feels guilty for watching this exchange. Liam and Zayn are full-on snogging now, so Louis sneaks off into the living room and plants himself on the sofa. 

He pulls out his phone and brings up his conversation with Harry. 

"Liam came and got him. Wedding's on."

He's thrilled for Zayn, honestly. He's found the love of his life and he gets to keep him forever. He and Liam will always be together and Louis will always have them. Together. 

If a pang of loneliness hits him, he doesn't admit it to himself. 

"Should I buy my tux now or wait and see what grandiose color and style scheme they have." 

Louis spends the next couple minutes wondering when Harry became part of their friend group and also when he became very okay with that happening.

After fifteen minutes of kissing, Liam and Zayn finally come into the living room holding hands. 

"You're my best man, right?" Zayn asks, his smile gigantic. 

"Of fucking course!" Louis jumps up out of his seat and crushes Zayn in a hug. "Harry's coming to the wedding." Zayn hugs him even tighter. 

"He makes you happy, doesn't he?" Liam asks, smiling as well. 

"Yeah. He does." Louis admits, pulling away from Zayn. 

"Maybe you should ask him out?" Liam raises his eyebrows expectantly. Louis doesn't think he understands how wrong it would be for a 24-year-old to date an 18-year-old. He's pretty sure Harry is finishing up sixth form and he's just old for his class, but he's not positive. Maybe he's at uni. That would be better. Less creepy that way, right?

"He's eighteen. I don't know if he's almost nineteen or if he's just turned eighteen. What if he's barely legal and I'm fawning over him like some pervert?" He's put a lot more thought into this than he wishes he has but it's for good reasons. The way his body reacts to Harry is not normal. He's never felt explosive with other boys before. Not even James. It kind of freaks him out. 

"Well, you'd have to be blind or an idiot to not see that he's into you. Zayn caught him biting his lip while staring at you. Mate, you've got an admirer. You just-so-happen to admire him too." Louis' brain feels fuzzy. Harry doesn't fancy him. Harry is all boy and smirks and smooth talking and Louis is anxious and lonely and a prick. The two types don't go well together at all. 

"That's bullshit." Louis laughs. 

"How thick are you? If you look at him from someone else's perspective, dude, he's practically in love with you. Just invite him over tomorrow after practice or something. If he says no, he says no. Not the end of the world." Zayn shrugs.

Louis thinks about it for a moment. Zayn's right. What's the harm in inviting him over. If nothing happens, it can be seen as a friendly gesture. If someone's dick gets sucked, it can be seen as a date. It's a win-win situation. 

"Okay. Yeah. I'll do that, then." Liam and Zayn both looked surprised that he gave in so easily. Fuck the universe for making him feel like he's better off alone. He can try this again. Definitely.


	6. Chapter Five

Harry is standing in Louis' kitchen with chicken flavored ramen noodle powder in his curls. 

Louis thinks he could get used to something like this. 

He's found out that Harry is, in fact, in college; he's planning on going to university to become a lawyer. Louis thinks that Harry won't have to work a day in his life if they end up together, but of course he never says that out loud. 

"I really think you should get a cat." Harry says, mouth full of noodles. "My mum has a cat named Dusty. Best animal in the world."

"If I got a cat, it would have to be a kitten."

"You know they don't stay a kitten forever, right?" Harry smiles. God, Louis doesn't remember the last time someone's smile made him this jittery inside. And since when is it possible to smile just by looking at someone? 

"Yes, Harry. I'm not an imbecile. I'm just saying, I would want one of those long-haired ones. A white one, probably."

"What would you name it?" Harry looks pretty serious about this whole conversation and Louis wants to touch his face to make sure he's real. 

"I don't know. I'd have to see what it looks like, wouldn't I? Don't think you can name something without seeing what it looks like." 

"Good point." Harry finishes off his noodles and looks around the kitchen, most likely looking for somewhere to put his dish. 

"Sink." Louis says, handing out his bowl for him to take as well. 

"Is this how you treat all of your guests? No wonder Zayn never comes over." He jokes, taking the dishes to the sink. They clatter on the bottom and he turns around, grinning. 

"No, Zayn never comes over because his head is too far up Liam's arse. Literally. They're disgusting together." Louis sticks his tongue out in disgust and earns a giggle from Harry. Harry Styles giggles. Louis is blessed.

"I don't know much about the two of them, but I can tell they're mad about each other. It reminds me of a fairytale or something." 

"I wouldn't exactly call sucking each other's balls every other night fairytale material, but hey, think whatever you'd like to think." Harry only looks slightly disturbed and, oh, he and Louis can be friends after all. The question of Harry being gay or not pops into Louis' mind and it's most definitely going to eat him alive. He's looking Harry in the eye and thinking about how his sexuality is a mystery. Who knows what could come out of his mouth.

"I think it's romantic. Sucking balls is kind of a gross thing if you think about it. You've got to really want to suck them to do it." When did it get so hot in Louis' flat? Did he turn the heat up earlier and forget about it? This sweater is very thick and itchy. 

"I suppose you could look at it that way. I look at it as them being sex-hungry fiends."

"Well, Mr. Anti-Gay-Sex, when was the last time you got laid?" Harry challenges, leaving Louis' eyes a lot wider than they were before this conversation started. He will not exploit his sex life to Harry Styles. He doesn't need to know how sad it is. 

"That's none of your business." He scoffs, crossing his arms. 

"It was that day you came into practice and were waddling everywhere, wasn't it?" Harry is giving him a toothy grin at this point and Louis is about to jump through the window and onto the street below him. Harry talking about sex is sending his mind into dark places and his dick into ever darker ones. 

"Maybe." He says sheepishly, looking into his living room to avoid Harry's eyes. Harry laughs at that and Louis wants to die. 

"In all honesty, I really thought you'd be the guy to pull men every night. It's kind of a relief that you're sort of a loser."

"Hey, I'm not a loser. This is a three million pound flat." Louis pouts. It's ridiculous that he's being made fun of by a teenager. He's worth thirty-four million pounds, God dammit. 

"Socially you're a loser." Harry looks so excited to be talking to Louis that Louis is sure his face will split sometime soon. Maybe he should start inviting him over more often. They haven't had one awkward silence yet. 

"Okay, fine. I can't argue with that. I mean, I am hanging out with an eighteen-year-old in my flat on a Sunday night."

"What else would you be doing?" Harry furrows his brow and pretends to be upset. It's fucking cute.

"I don't know. Clubbing, drinking, having wild sex with a beautiful man, drinking champagne on a balcony while staring out at the ocean. Really anything. But, no. I'm doing this. You should feel honored." The thing Louis hates most is how he would rather be sitting in his flat doing nothing with Harry than do any of the things he listed off. 

"Hm, I'm flattered. It must be nice being a multi-millionaire."

"It's only fun when you can buy stuff. The events you have to go to are horrendous. I sound like a dick for saying that charity events are terrible, but they are." Harry snorts at that and lifts himself to sit on the countertop. 

"What's the last big thing you bought for yourself? Like, something you would never buy if you were part of the working class." Harry is a curious little thing but his question throws Louis off. People don't usually ask this kind of stuff. It's usually "what celebrities have you met?" and "who's your favorite designer?" He's a footy player, not a model. He sponsors Adidas but that's about it. 

"Erm, I'm not sure, honestly. I bought my mum a new car last month, if that counts." Harry's lips are parted slightly and he's just standing there with his eyebrows raised. "What?"

"You can't remember what you bought yourself, but you can remember what you've bought your mum." He repeats, looking dumbfounded. Louis shifts all of his weight to his right side.

"Well, yeah. I mean, I've bought a couple shirts and that couch," he points to the living room at his large new leather couch, "but that's really it. Oh, and new tires for my car." Harry just gives an astounded laugh at that. 

"You amaze me, Louis Tomlinson. You're Manchester's star player, you've probably gotten laid once in the past three months, and you never boast or buy yourself shit. Are you sure you're a real celebrity?"

"Who said I'm a celebrity?" He questions. He doesn't see himself as a celebrity, really. Should he? Also, fuck Harry for thinking he's sexually deprived. He is, but Harry doesn't need to know that.

"Louis." Harry says, rolling his eyes and pursing his lips. "Don't be an idiot. You're probably one of the most famous football players in the world. I'd say you're a celebrity."

"Doesn't feel like it. I kind of just feel like a bummed-out twenty-four-year-old." No lie there.

"Well of course you don't feel famous. You've been you your whole life. Nothing's changed other than your privacy levels and your bank account."

"Isn't that the truth." Louis snorts, leaning further into the counter. He pushes his hair out of his eyes and squints at Harry. "Why did you take the job as our laundry boy? You could easily be modeling for Burberry or some shit like that. Instead you're wasting those legs in baggy khakis." He's wearing ripped black skinny jeans and a white pocketed t-shirt and Louis thinks this is what all boys should look like. 

"You like my legs?" Harry smirks, sticking his left leg out for Louis to see. Louis kicks it and and Harry grunts. "Okay, okay, I get it, geez. But, I don't know. My mum's friend mentioned there being an opening as laundry boy for the team and I thought it would be kind of cool. I've always been a fan so, you know, almost a dream job." He smiles. 

"No, a dream job would be playing on the team, not taking care of their sweaty pants." Louis laughs, taking a sip of water. 

"Not everyone can be as lucky and talented as you, Lou." Harry snips jokingly. 

"That's right. I forgot." 

"You're pretty cool, you know that? I really thought you'd be stuck-up." 

"That's Zayn, Haz. Snooty son of a bitch, he is. You know how many throw pillows he has on his guest bed? Fifteen. I've counted." 

"Seriously?" He laughs. "That's too many. The most you can have until it's too much is, like, six." 

"I'm glad we see eye to eye on this. Someone else has to tell him. He's stopped listening to me." Louis finishes talking and he and Harry just stare at each other, dumb smiles on their faces. Harry's phone chimes and they both jump a little. 

Weird. 

"My mum." Harry mumbles, swiping his phone screen to unlock it. "Asking where I am." Louis is usually an expert at lying. He's maybe one of the best liars in the world when necessary. But for some reason, when he really needs a lie, he can't think of one.

"Tell her you're with me. It's not like we're up to anything. Just lounging around my flat making fun of Zayn Malik." Louis shrugs. Harry raises an eyebrow and doesn't move his thumbs at all. "I'm serious!"

"Okay..." He drawls, typing something out. "Here. 'With Louis Tomlinson. He's taken me under his wing. Cheeky little thing.'"

"Really? Cheeky?" Louis whines, his shoulders sagging forward a bit. 

"Fine. Ruggedly handsome." 

"That's more like it." Louis says smugly, crossing his arms across his chest. A couple minutes pass before the next text comes. 

"She wants to know what we're doing." Harry's biting skin off of his lips and Louis wants to touch his thumb to them. 

"Making fun of Zayn and talking about me getting a cat." 

"I'll say chatting." Harry starts to type something out, but Louis stops him.

"What if she thinks we're having sex or doing drugs?" Louis questions, his face reddening when he realizes that Harry Styles would not be having sex with him. "Okay, wait."

Harry's laughing to himself and shaking his head. "I don't think she'll assume we're having sex, Lou. You're one of her favorite footy players. It'd be too good to be true." 

He didn't say he wouldn't have sex with a man.

"Did you send the chatting one then?"

"Yes." His phone buzzes again and he grins. 

"What?" Louis asks earnestly. He can't help but get itchy when he doesn't know what's making Harry happy. All he wants to do is make Harry smile. 

"Nothing. Just my mum being my mum."

"Tell her I say hi." Louis adds while Harry types. 

"Oh, she'll shit." He grins. "You really are her favorite. 'His bum is just so cute in those shorts.'" He mimics in a high-pitched voice. "It's horrible being the one hearing about it." 

"Hey, I've worked for this arse." Louis pouts grabbing his backside. "Do you know how many practices it took to get this?"

"A lot, I'm sure. It's pretty perky." Pause. "Definitely the bottom of a bottom." There's a couple seconds of silence before the words click in Louis' head. 

Oh no. He's picturing Harry on top of him and inside of him and why does Harry need to be so filthy.

"You," Louis begins, "are not entirely wrong." Harry's face reddens before splitting into a grin and Louis knows what's happening inside of him but he refuses to believe it. Harry won't have that effect on him. 

"Super-sleuth Styles cracks another case." He smirks, running his hands along the side of the countertop. Louis watches the way his long, slender fingers curve around the edge and grip it. He swallows thickly.

"Don't knock it 'til you try it." He says, rolling his eyes. "There's good shit going on in there." 

"I believe you, I do. I'm just saying. I knew you were a bottom the day I met you." Louis narrows his eyes, but they quickly shoot open when he realizes, Harry Styles thought about me in a sex position. This shit needs to stop. He's losing his mind over an eighteen-year-old. 

"You can tell right away? Well, fuck." Louis snorts. "There's just no mystery to me anymore!" He shouts dramatically, covering his eyes with his hands. He feels Harry's hands at his wrists, tugging his arms down. Harry's green eyes are staring back at him and he immediately knows he could do this for the rest of his life. This moment is what he'll remember when he's 46 and staring into his bowl of cereal at seven in the morning. The way Harry's lips purse and the way his brow furrows and the way his stupid fringe sweeps up off his forehead. He thinks about his early teenage years when his mum would tell him, "You'll just know when they're the one, honey. I promise you." and he thinks about how right she was. The energy between them never goes away and he wonders if other people feel it too. If they feel it when Harry and Louis look at each other from across the room or when they're chatting each other up at his locker. They have to feel it, he thinks. The entire universe is filled with nothing but Harry, Harry, Harry and Louis knows he should go. 

"Does your mum want you home now." Louis says abruptly. Harry's eyes seem to come back into focus and he blinks a couple times. 

"Erm, yeah, I guess so." He sounds disappointed and Louis wants to kick himself for being the reason behind it. He just can't be around Harry right now. It's too much and they're always too close and it's just overwhelming. 

Harry gathers his things from the island and goes to slide his shoes on all while Louis leans against the cabinet and watches him. 

"Come over Thursday." He says without thinking. Harry smiles a little then nods. 

"Okay." 

"Alright." Louis says quietly to himself. "Thursday."

 

x

 

Louis likes to pretend that he has a life outside of football. Sometimes he can't even convince himself, though. 

That's exactly what's going through his mind today.

He's been watching Project Runway for seven hours.

Seven. 

Alexander just got sent home and he's pretty sure Sean will be heartbroken. They have to be a secret item. God, Louis doesn't remember being this pathetic. 

His phone rings and he's pretty sure one of his lungs just collapsed. 

"Lou-eh!" Zayn yells from the other end of the line. Louis is certain he's drunk, which is fucking pathetic for a Tuesday night. 

"What." He says flatly, shoving his hand into the bag of pretzels next to him. 

"What's up?" Louis hears people talking in the background and he just knows Zayn is at some fancy pants party getting smashed with his hot fiance. 

"Erm..." How exactly does he tell Zayn that he's been wallowing in his own filth and misery all day? "Watching a show. You at a party?"

"Hell yeah! Josh threw a fuckin' rager. Can't believe you aren't here." Wait. What?

"What? He threw a party? Who's there?" Zayn is silent on the other end and, oh, Louis is about six seconds away from being livid. "Zayn."

"It's just a few people from the team, that's all. I figured he called you up. Just invited everyone today, spontaneous fucker." Zayn drunkenly chuckles at his own words and Louis watches Korina blow up on Char's dress. "Look, I'm sorry man. Maybe he didn't want paps outside his house or whatever. Don't take it personally."

"Why did you call me?" Louis ignores all of the shit coming out of Zayn's mouth because he really does not feel like arguing about it. 

"Just felt like a good thing to do?" He can mentally picture Zayn shrugging in his usual way and, fuck, it's hard to stay mad at him. He wishes he hated more people. 

"You know what? Fuck this party. I'm coming over."

"Zayn, if I'm correct, based on previous knowledge, you've been drinking for at least three hours now. You are not driving here." The last thing he needs right now is his best friend getting killed because he's an idiot. Since when is Louis the voice of reason?

"I'm not driving you twat. Liam has had, like, one beer." Zayn must be able to read Louis' mind because he follows up with, "He won't be staying, either."

"Great. I get to hang out with my intoxicated best friend. What more could I ask for?" Louis snorts jokingly. 

"Yeah, yeah, Tommo. I get it. Just clean up your couch and turn off Project Runway. I may be engaged to a man, but I'm not some sparkly fairy princess like you." Louis laughs out loud at that, cursing Zayn quickly before ending the call. 

He takes Zayn's advice and clears the shit off of the couch, throwing away any trash that's accumulated around him. 

He doesn't turn off Project Runway, though. Not yet. 

He starts to zone out, staring more at the sleek fireplace below his TV than the actual television screen. 'Maybe I should get a cat', he thinks. The extra bedroom could be its room and it would even match his decor. Maybe Harry would come over more if he had a cat. 

The TV is quickly shut off and he finds himself face-down in the couch, arse in the air. Fuck his life. Everything is beginning to revolve around Harry and he doesn't know what's happening. He'll be in the cereal aisle and he'll think of Harry. He'll be staring at a license plate while at a red light and be thinking of Harry. His dreams are tainted with Harry's smile, his daydreams with his laugh. Even when he's away from Harry, he's never really away from Harry. 

Maybe he should ask Ben to fire Harry so he doesn't have to go through this kind of emotional pain anymore. The amount of self control it takes to not smother Harry in kisses is getting to an unhealthy point. The urge to reach out and brush his fingers over Harry's jaw or pull him in by his waist gets stronger every time he sees him and he just knows he's going to slip soon. That's exactly what he needs. One wrong move and Harry could be running out the door screaming. He's a teenager for fuck's sake. His self-esteem is fragile. 

There's a knock at the door and Louis groans loud enough for the person, whom he assumes is Zayn, to hear. 

He's proved right when he hears a "get the fuck up" from the other side.

Louis walks over to the door and slowly swings it open, a down-trodden look on his face. 

"What's your problem?" Zayn asks, his eyes heavier than usual. Liam is behind him, probably waiting for him to get inside the flat safely. 

"Why, hello, Zayn. Fancy seeing you!" Louis says with fake enthusiasm. Liam stifles a laugh and Zayn just frowns. 

"I'm serious. You're looking kind of sad." He turns around and kisses Liam goodbye, who waves to Louis before turning around and walking to the lift. 

"Come in." Zayn is offering to have a moment with Louis and he'll be six feet in the ground before he refuses one of those. No one puts up with his shit like Zayn does and he's forever grateful. 

He and Zayn take a seat on the sofa, Louis bringing his knees to his chest and resting his forehead on them. "I'm fucked, Zayn. I'm a goner."

"What are you talking about?" Louis notices the water bottle in his hand and realizes Zayn wanted to sober up for Louis. Cute. 

"Harry fucking Styles." He mutters. Zayn breathes in sharply and there's silence between them. 

"Do you love him, mate?" Zayn asks seriously, staring intently at Louis. The thing is, Louis doesn't know. Is it possible to love someone after a month? It can't be. 

"No. I don't know. We have this energy between us. It's like the shit you read about when people are destined to be together."

"You've gotta tell him. It'll eat you alive if you two just beat around the bush for the rest of eternity. I know he is at least attracted to you. Just try it." The worst thing is, Louis knows that Zayn is right. He knows that he could end this longing feeling if he just fucking had Harry or heard the words "I'm not into you". But, of course, since he's himself, he's not going to make a goddamn move. He'll just sit around and mope until someone finally smacks it out of him. Or he drinks himself to death. 

"He's coming over Thursday." Louis states. Zayn nods and smiles. 

"See, he obviously likes you. Just tell him Thursday, yeah? I don't like seeing my best mate this happy, yet so sad at the same time. It should be all happy."

"The other day, when Liam said yes, I was so happy for you. But then for one second, sorry for being selfish, I just felt so fucking lonely. Like, Liam loves every inch of you and it's just so obvious. I realized how much I've wanted that for so long and I've never had it, you know? I want to wake up next to someone in the morning and not have to tell them to keep quiet about the previous night." Zayn is looking at him with sad eyes and Louis really just wants to cry, but he's not going to do that. He can't even remember the last time he cried. 

"You're going to have that, man. Trust me. You're too good for someone to pass up." 

"Doesn't seem that way." He mumbles. 

"Just promise me that you'll tell Harry how you feel on Thursday. Please?" 

"Okay." He's not sure that he can keep that promise, but he's going to try his best. 

x

Louis had the maid come an extra day just so his house would be spotless for Harry. He basically lives in his asshole. 

It only makes him look worse when he finds himself literally waiting for Harry to show up because apparently he has nothing better to do. Pathetic. 

So, when Harry actually knocks on the door, Louis is panicking because it's fucking Harry and Harry is the most wonderful person he's ever known. He opens the door and sees Harry dressed in blue jeans and a dark green crew neck sweatshirt. Louis thinks he could get used to this.

"Hi." He says in a small voice.

"Hi." Harry repeats, grinning. Louis just stands there like an idiot and Harry starts to laugh. "Can I come in?" 

"Oh, yeah, fuck." He laughs nervously. Why is he so flustered? "Sorry." He lets Harry into his flat and shuts the door, Harry kicking off his shoes by the kitchen counter. 

"So what have you been doing all day?" Harry asks, plopping down on the couch. Louis follows, sitting on the other end. 

"Well, I made some frozen corn earlier and ate that. Watched Project Runway for a couple hours." He's such a fucking loser oh my god. 

"Sounds like an exciting day." Harry grins. 

"What did you do?"

"Well, I had classes today and I did homework for an hour or two after, then I came here."

"I keep forgetting you're still in school." 

"Yeah, I wish I wasn't. Have to make money some day though." He laughs, running his hands through his hair. 

"I suppose you do."

They talk for a while about school, football, music, and other random topics. Louis learns that Harry was in a band and was the lead singer. He also learns that Harry really pushes the whole "treat others how they treat you" thing. Why did he have to become involved with the most genuine person on the planet?

"I have, like, five plants in my room." Harry says, his face sporting a huge smile. He and Louis are currently talking about their rooms. What is this, primary school? 

"You've got a green thumb? Of course." He rolls his eyes. 

"No! I have this really cool aloe plant. Like, one of the ones you can break and the gel comes out. It's named Icarus."

"Like the guy who flew too close to the sun?" Louis questions. He can't help but smile. Harry is so cute all of the time. How is he not exhausted? 

"Yeah! I have some succulents too, but Icarus is my favorite." Harry Styles has a favorite fucking plant. Right off the bat you'd think Harry would be this rocker, prick-type. But, no, he's a plant-loving, anti-bully, flower child. Louis is in way over his head. "What?"

Louis realizes he's staring, once again, and shakes himself out of it. "Nothing. You're just... a strange little human." 

"Hey... I like living things." He pouts. "I love animals. Still think you should get a cat." 

"I actually thought about it the other day. The only thing is, what if it tore up my furniture? I have a vintage record player that would bring me to tears if something happened to it." He jokes. Harry's eyes widen in interest and he looks around the room. 

"What?! Where is it?" 

"Oh, yeah, you're a nonconformist. That's right up your alley, isn't it?" Louis snorts as Harry stands up excitedly.

"Yes, oh my God." Harry looks like he's going to explode if he doesn't see this vintage piece, so Louis starts walking toward it, beckoning Harry to follow. It's in his formal dining room that he never uses, stuffed in a corner. It was an impulse buy that he's used once, but he really does love it. There's something about it that just makes him feel good. 

Harry runs his fingers along the edge of it, examining it closely. "This is beautiful." he says softly. "What records do you have?" 

"They're in that bin right there." He points to a container next to the stand and Harry is immediately opening the lid and rummaging through the music. Louis just stands there and watches because there's nothing else he could do. He loves how enthusiastic Harry is toward things he's passionate about. 

"You have Dream Your Life Away? I've wanted this on vinyl since it came out, but, you know, I don't have a record player, so." He looks at the cover in awe before taking it out and placing it on the tray. "Can I?"

"Go for it, Curly." Harry puts it on and 'From Afar' starts playing throughout his flat, echoing off of the marble floors. 

"Holy fuck." Harry says under his breath. Louis feels his bones grow warmer. 

"Like it?" Louis asks, already knowing the answer. 

"I love it." Harry just looks at Louis. 

'that's just not the way that friends behave'

"May I have this dance?" Louis asks sarcastically, holding out his hand in a dramatic way. 

"Of course, Mr. Tomlinson." Harry takes his hand and Louis feels like he's on fire. The warmth inside of him expands throughout his body and he just feels so goddamn good it's insane. 

'two falling sparks, one willing fool'

They waltz around his flat in a joking way, Louis dipping Harry once, Harry cackling with his beautifully deep voice. In one strange moment, Louis looks into Harry's eyes and everything just stops. The music is still going strong in the background, but Louis and Harry are barely even breathing. 

Suddenly, Harry's arms are around him and he doesn't have a clue how to react. 

"Thank you." Harry whispers. He has a boy in his arms thanking him for something he isn't even sure of, but he's not complaining at all. 

"For what?" Louis says softly, hugging him back. 

Harry is silent for a few seconds, leaving Louis' imagination running in a million different directions. Finally, he whispers, "giving me the courage to be myself. I told my mum and step-dad that night I called you. That I was gay." Louis feels like someone kicked him in the stomach. His mind is going berserk with possible outcomes of this conversation, but he has to tell it to shut up because now is not the fucking time. 

"Oh." He doesn't know what to say. 

"Yeah. I'm not out at school yet, but it's only a matter of time. I figured that if you could do it, I could do it." Louis feels pride swell inside of him. He gave Harry confidence. His Harry. 

"Wow. That's... Wow." Harry hugs him a little tighter, but Louis feels inferior. Harry is a couple inches taller than him. 

"Sorry I didn't tell you before. I mean, I figured you wouldn't run off screaming or anything, but, you know."

"There's still a bit of time for that to happen." Louis grins, trying to make Harry's mood a little lighter. It seems to work because the boy perks up and smiles back. "Granted, you'd probably have to try to saw off my leg or something for me to actually do it." 

"I don't think you own anything I could saw it off with." 

"That's true. We would be here a while." Harry just looks at him for a second too long, and Louis' head goes fuzzy. "How do you know when a guy is, you know, into you?" Harry says seriously. 

God, Louis is the worst with advice most of the time. Zayn should be here accepting all of Harry's questions. He'd be better off. "Well, I'd suppose it's like knowing when a girl likes you." Louis shrugs. Flirting is the only thing he's based his flings or whatever on. Maybe that's why he's been a bachelor forever. 

"What if they're just being friendly? Like, they treat everyone like they're flirting with them? How the hell are you supposed to know?" He looks like he's thought about this more than enough the way the concern spreads across his features. The last thing he needs is to worry about someone liking him back. He's like a god in Louis' eyes. 

"Do you have a certain person in mind?" Louis suddenly comes to his senses and sees that he's been so blinded by his own feelings that he hasn't even thought of the possibility of Harry liking someone that isn't him. His heart starts to pound in his chest at the idea of it. 

"Yeah. Yeah, I do." He says, furrowing his brow and looking down. "For a while now. Kind of torture, actually." He half-laughs. Louis can tell he's trying to play this off as some stupid question, but he knows it has to mean more to him than the eye can see. It's just that Harry's body language is never this negative or insecure. 

"I know what you mean. If it's really going to eat at you that much, you can just tell the bloke. The worst he can do is punch you. You get over it after a few weeks, your face heals, and you move on. If he doesn't want you, he's a fucking loon." Louis says truthfully. His feet have moved closer to Harry's, his mouth now sealed tight, holding back the words Louis wants to, needs to, say. He's a hypocrite for giving this kind of advice and not following it, but Harry is the solar system and Louis is a pebble on Earth. Anyone could turn down Louis. Harry has probably never been rejected in his life.

Harry looks into Louis' eyes for the second time tonight and the emotion behind them alarms Louis. "It's not that easy, Louis. He's someone you can't exactly get over quickly." 

"I don't know what else to say. I've been single the majority of my life. Not exactly the guy you want to come to." He says sympathetically. 

Harry just looks at him. His expression is guarded but soft. 

"So. You're getting a cat." A smooth subject change on Harry's part, Louis going along with it. He'll revisit their previous conversation later when he's in bed dying from frustration and lack of sex (mostly a lack of sex with Harry). 

"Hey. That's not set in stone. I can barely take care of myself right now, let alone a cat."

"I'm just saying." Harry grins. "You're socially a loser. Might as well seal the deal by getting a cat." 

Louis smacks his shoulder and laughs.

"You're the one hanging out with the loser anyway."

"You got me there." Harry chuckles. "But I don't mind."

Louis' chest warms and he thinks about damn Harry and his damn charm persuading him to get a damn cat.

Fuck.


	7. Chapter Six

The chill of December swept across Manchester a couple days prior and Louis is already tired of winter. Zayn is lying on his couch, feet thrown over the back cushions, head hanging off of the seat. It's a lazy Friday afternoon and the two of them are waiting around for Liam to get off of work and for Harry to finish up his classes so they can go out.

"Remember when we had actual jobs." Zayn grunts, picking his head up slightly. 

"Zayn, you dog sat for a living. I don't think that's a job." Louis laughs. Louis was a waiter at a local restaurant up until being recruited for the team. He loved that job, but he would never take the position again. Being a waiter was a nightmare. 

"I was waiting for the art thing to work out." 

"Clearly it didn't." Louis snorts, flipping through the channels. It's that time of day when there is not a single decent thing on the television. It's either children's shows, talk shows, or some awful reality show. 

"Thanks, mate. My angel in disguise." Zayn says flatly. "But really, what am I going to do when I'm too old for football."

"Die." Louis says without hesitation. "That's my plan."

"Sounds like a dark path. I dig it." 

They're silent for a few minutes before Zayn's phone chimes. It's on the other side of the couch so Zayn tries to maneuver his body to reach it. He fails miserably and ends up face down on the marble. 

"That was graceful. I'd give it an eight out of ten performance-wise. For agility? A five." Louis says, looking at his friend but not even thinking about helping him up. Zayn picks himself up from the ground and glares at Louis before snatching up his phone.

"Niall said he's down for drinks tonight." Zayn says, suddenly much giddier. Over the past month, Josh and Dan really did decide to give the whole band thing a go, dragging Niall into it as well. As Liverpool's star player, Louis figured Niall would be bitter and rude. It turns out he's the exact opposite. Niall is quite possibly the most amiable person Louis has ever met, and he's met Harry Styles. 

"Sick. We need to hang out with him more often." 

"Right. Who knew Liverpool had a single decent person on that team. I thought they were all robots programmed to kill." 

"Maybe Niall is the one who programmed them." Louis jokes, finally settling on watching 'Archer'. 

"I did hear he majored in Science and Technology at uni. We'll see what dirt we can dig up tonight." 

"Where are we going, anyway?" Zayn is shit at handing out information. Getting details out of him is like prying open a clam.

"Niall said his flat. He lives like ten minutes from here." 

"No kidding? Must be the star player neighborhood or something." Before Louis can even laugh at his own statement, Zayn throws a pillow at him. "Hey."

"You're such a twat, Jesus." Zayns laughs. 

"I'm surprised you subjected the throw pillow to that kind of abuse, seeing as you love them more than you love me." Louis retorts, crossing his arms. He will rag on Zayn about that until the day he dies. 

"Shit like that is why I like throw pillows more than you." He says, the corners of his mouth turning up. "You're annoying. And mean. I don't care what Harry says." Louis' stomach does backflips every time he even hears Harry's name and he feels like he's fucking fourteen. He's almost twenty-five and he has a crush on someone. "I hate when you go all googly-eyed when I say his name."

"Who went googly-eyed? Not me. I'm a man." Louis says, puffing out his chest. 

"Who happens to have a limp wrist and a need for cock in his ass." Zayn grunts, getting up from the sofa to go to the bathroom.

"You're just jealous because your wrists are always tense!" Louis yells as Zayn turns the corner. "Bitch."

x

Louis steps over the threshold of Niall's flat door and the only thing he sees is Harry, sitting perfectly and godlike on one of the counter stools. Christ on a cross, Louis can't catch a break. 

"Hey guys!" Niall chirps, gesturing for Zayn and him to come in. The door shuts behind them and Louis notices Liam next to Harry. Was he there a minute ago? Louis swears Liam apparated. 

"How's it going, man?" Zayn asks, giving Niall a clap on the shoulder. 

"It's going." He says way more enthusiastically than needed. "My knees are fucking with me again. Thought they were finished being cunts." Louis takes a mental note of Niall's horrible language. "Go sit down, crack open a cold one. I've got whiskey in the cabinet too, if you'd like."

"Sweet." Zayn immediately walks to the fridge and gets a beer while Louis lags behind, doing everything in his power to not fawn over Harry in the process. His efforts are wasted when Harry pokes his arm as he walks by.

"Not even a hello?" Harry says, dimple showing and everything. If there is a God, he is certain He has something against Louis. 

See, hanging out with Harry wouldn't be an issue if they were casual mates who could just chill whenever they felt like it. But that's not the case. Louis hasn't hung out with Harry for a week, solely because he doesn't think he can handle one-on-one time with him anymore. The last time they hung out they ended up in Louis' bedroom, Harry getting out Louis' old guitar and playing some Kodaline for him. That was about enough to send Louis flying over the edge. Since then, Louis pledged to himself that he would only be around Harry if someone else was there being a buffer. They get so caught up in each other, so when a buffer is there it's much easier to be distant. 

"I was saving a good one for you, but now you've gone and blown it." Louis jokes, poking Harry back. Zayn is looking at the two of them over the rim of his cup with raised eyebrows. Louis just gives him a look. 

Zayn knows what Louis' plan is. He doesn't want to avoid Harry, but he knows that he needs to. Not only would Manchester fire Harry for being with a footballer, but the tabloids would go nuts. 'Manchester United star caught up in laundry boy scandal. The twist? The boy is nearly a child!'

The only circumstances he would even consider pursuing Harry under would be if Harry quit, which seems highly unlikely. Louis is pretty sure Harry doesn't want to leave solely because Louis is there, but he may be slightly biased. 

"Haven't seen you for what feels like years." Harry points out. Louis stops in his tracks, his hand gripping the refrigerator door. 

"I'm a celebrity," Zayn snorts when Louis pauses, "I have a busy schedule."

"According to your Snapchat story you were watching America's Next Top Model reruns. Honestly, Louis, you need to step up your game. You're a shit celebrity." Louis wants to die.

"You should see him on Wednesday nights after practice." Zayn begins, grinning ear to ear. "He sits down with a tub of sorbet and watches Grey's Anatomy on Netflix." Louis kicks Zayn in the shin and Liam laughs to himself. 

"Okay, okay, thank you everyone for your input. Niall, as you can see, I'm a fucking slug, so that's what you've gotten yourself into." He pours his beer and takes a huge gulp, some of it running down his chin. He looks up and Harry is looking at his lips, which are probably shiny and a little foamy. Nice. 

"You seem okay to me. You're a Cup stealer, but I think I can bury that hatchet. Cheers." He raises his glass and Louis mimics, feeling better about the Cup situation. He's only hung out with Niall once, and the whole time he was worrying about him holding a grudge.

"Zayn, you've got something on your shirt, babe." Liam says, reaching across the counter to inspect it. "How the shit did you get mustard on this?" Zayn looks at Louis and Louis looks at the ceiling. 

"Kitchen accident." He shrugs, still glaring at Louis. 

"Sometimes I think you two are dating behind my back." Liam says. 

"That makes two of us." Harry chimes in. 

"It's a true love story, thank you very much. I found a love made for me. It's the one and only Zayn Malik." He smooches Zayn's cheek and Zayn laughs, putting his hand on the side of Louis' head. 

"I thought you and Harry were dating." Niall says, making everyone in the room go still. "What?"

Zayn and Liam know that Louis wants Harry like he's stranded in the desert and Harry is water. They know that Harry is gay and it's only a matter of time before something happens between him and Louis. And they clearly know that Louis is very uncomfortable talking about feelings for Harry in front of Harry. Niall is oblivious.

"Just mates." Harry says, licking his lips. "Good mates."

"Yeah. We just hit it off from the get go. He bumped into me and said oops, I said hi, and boom, friends." Louis wishes he didn't have to make the moment he met the love of his life the biggest understatement of all time, but, c'est la vie. 

"Aw, cute." Niall wrinkles up his nose and smiles. "So... You don't play footy?"

"Laundry boy. I can barely do that without falling over." Harry responds. "Very clumsy."

"I thought you were going to wipe out at our flat a couple weeks ago." Liam adds, remembering when Harry slipped on something that wasn't there, even though he claims it was water.

"I thought I was going to have to sue." 

"Fat joke that is." Louis snickers. "Although, you are going to be a lawyer."

"That's our wedding money, mate. If you want these nice drinking nights with us, you'd better watch it." Zayn winks, putting his hand on top of Liam's.

Niall looks at them and Louis watches his facial expression go from laughing to confused to surprised in under two seconds. Niall is surrounded by gays. What a classic.

"Yes, they're together." Louis butts in before Niall can form words. "Press doesn't know, some of the team doesn't know, it's on the down-low." Niall just nods and raises his cup to them too. 

"Congrats. When's the wedding?" Zayn and Liam look at each other, faces unreadable to Louis. 

"We haven't settled on a date yet." Liam says curtly. There's obviously some tension around the topic for God knows why. "We know it's in July, though."

"I'm clearly the best man for both of them." Louis says proudly. 

"How does that work, exactly?" Harry asks, genuinely curious.

"No fucking clue." 

The five lads talk for a while longer, getting to know Niall better, and Niall learning about them. Louis loves nights like these, where no one is drunk, yet no one is sober. They get that perfect buzzed feeling and everyone is happy and calm. Plus, this group of people just feels right together. He's not sure what it is, but everything is right in that moment. 

They move to the sofas, Liam and Zayn on one, Louis, Harry, and Niall on another. Buzzed Louis pressed against Buzzed Harry's thigh is likely lethal, but they both act like nothing is happening. The heat of Harry feels electric. Louis knows it's cliche, but it's the only word to describe it. Zayn and Liam are talking about adopting a dog together and all that Louis can concentrate on is Harry's hands. He's playing with a ring on his finger and Louis might croak right here on Niall's couch. Why does he wear so many rings? 

"Louis." Liam says, smiling because he definitely knows that Louis was only paying attention to Harry. 

"Yeah, what?" 

"You're getting a cat aren't you?" Harry looks at Louis and Louis glares at Liam.

"I mean, it's been tossed around, but it's not a set thing." He answers. Zayn and Liam obviously know he's going to give into Harry's request simply because he's Harry. It's sickening what lengths he'll go to to please that boy. 

"Yeah, okay." Zayn mocks. "That means you're getting one."

Harry pokes Louis' thigh and grins. "I'll go with you to pick it out and everything." Great.

"That's probably a promise, too." Liam says slyly. Niall laughs and Louis knows he's picking up on things quickly. Fuck himself for being so obvious and fuck Harry too for the sake of it. If only he could actually fuck Harry.

"Fine. We'll go after practice tomorrow. God, peer pressure me into things why don't you." He scoffs. 

Harry does a victory cheer and looks at Louis like he's won the lottery. "You're the best." 

"Oh, he knows." Zayn laughs. 

Louis wonders if cat shopping is a date. He's going to tell himself it is.

x

Sweat is soaking his shirt and forehead and Louis cannot wait to get a shower. After practicing for three hours, his energy has dwindled tremendously and so has his will to live. He enters the locker room and spots Zayn getting undressed by their cubbies. 

"Big day for you, huh? Becoming a dad and all. It's a good thing you don't have to be a single parent." Zayn says while taking off a sock.

Louis furrows his brow. "The fuck is that supposed to mean." 

"Harry is a father too. The most beautiful parents I've ever seen." Louis looks around to make sure no one is listening. Harry isn't even in the room. 

"You're a fucking arsehole, you know that?" He hisses. It just evokes a bubble of laughter from Zayn. Louis is not co-parenting a cat with Harry Styles. He can be a father on his own, dammit. 

"You've told me once or twice before." 

He nearly jumps when he hears Matt's voice echo throughout the room. 

"Lads! I have news!" Everyone looks at him expectantly while he stands on a chair, shirtless. "I'm having a baby!" The room erupts in congratulations and claps and Louis hears Josh ask him when he grew a uterus. "Thank you. We're so excited. Zoey is twelve weeks along already and she's wonderful." 

"Hey, today should be Father's Day." Zayn says, nudging Louis' side. Louis just gives him the side eye. 

Harry enters the room smiling so big it looks like it hurts. 

"I heard baby and had to come in." He exclaims. "That's awesome man! I love babies." Of fucking course he does. He probably rescues puppies weekly. 

"Thank you." Matt gets down from his chair and begins talking to Josh and Blair. Meanwhile, Harry must have seen Louis because he's on his way over to him. Louis isn't wearing anything but tight black pants. 

Harry goes to say something, looks at Louis, then closes his mouth. Zayn is watching this exchange like it's a fucking Broadway show, and honestly, it might as well be one. Louis just waits for Harry to say words. 

"Hey." He must decide on the safest word possible. 

"Hello, Harold." Louis says brightly. 

"Um, are we still-"

"Yes." Zayn interrupts. Louis wants to murder him. Harry looks at Louis for confirmation and he nods.

"Of course. I just need to shower because I smell like ten people died on me." 

"Nah, you smell... manly." Harry says wrinkling his nose.

"Bet you've never heard that one before." Zayn snickers. 

"Do you ever go away or are you just a cloud of mysterious bullying all of the time?" Louis asks, only halfway joking. 

"I'm like your own personal ghost from Insidious." He says back before heading for the showers.

"Jesus, God help me." Louis rubs his temples and sighs. Zayn is his best friend, but God dammit he wants to kick him in the throat sometimes. 

"He's not that bad." 

"You aren't around him every fucking second of your life." Louis groans. "I don't know who's meaner, me or him."

"Now that," Harry points out, "is a toss up. I'm going to have to go with you though. You're a massive dick." Louis scoffs and leans back a little, crossing his arms. 

"I am one or I have one?" He says too quickly, realizing it's Harry fucking Styles he's talking to. Harry licks his lips before responding. 

"Well you definitely are one. I don't know about the latter because, well, never seen it." Oh, if Harry does not shut up within ten seconds Louis is going to combust. He plays it cool by some miracle. 

"Hm. Your loss." He turns around and gets clean clothes from his bag, knowing that his arse looks fantastic and that Harry is definitely looking at it. Sure enough, when he turns back around, he sees Harry's eyes dart up to his own. "I'm going to shower. Get ready to look at sad animals. It'll be a long afternoon."

"I've been preparing since I first told you to get a cat. I knew you'd give in."

Louis shakes his head. "Arrogance. It'll get you nowhere." 

"It's gotten me this far."

"Fair enough." He raises his eyebrows and smiles before heading to the showers. Keep walking and don't look back, he tells himself. He can feel Harry's eyes on him until he's out of sight.

x

"I don't see any white ones." Louis and Harry are at the animal shelter and they look like a couple. He can tell that people recognize him too. This should end well. 

"Just keep looking. One will literally reach out to you." Harry is too damn optimistic. Louis watches as he wiggles his finger in one of the cages and grins. Within seconds, Louis feels something tug on his sweatshirt sleeve. He looks down and sees a black and white paw attached to his arm. 

"Hello." He greets, looking into the cage. A skinny, short-haired calico is looking back at him, meowing profusely. He reads the tag on the door and learns it's a girl and her name is Lilac. She's two and is fixed and everything. 

"Harry." Louis grabs Harry's arm and yanks him over to Lilac. "This is her. I've found my cat."

"Don't you mean our cat?" Harry adds while opening the cage. Louis feels his stomach squirm. 

"Sure, whatever." 

"She's a sweetie." Lilac is climbing on Harry's shoulders, purring. "Go get someone so we can adopt her." Naturally, Louis does what Harry says. He returns with a younger blonde girl named Claire who is equipped with a box and papers. 

"Lilac? She's one of my favorite cats here. She's a cuddler for sure." Claire takes the cat from Harry's arms and motions for Louis and Harry to follow her. "I'll get you all settled in the vet's office. We can go over her health and vaccinations." Louis looks at Harry and sees that he is so beyond thrilled that this is actually happening. When Harry catches Louis looking, he sticks his tongue out and smiles. 

Once they've cleared up everything in the vet's office, they're given the okay to take her home. Louis gets into the driver's seat while Harry carefully maneuvers Lilac's box into the passenger's seat, getting in after. 

Harry looks at Louis and can't stop smiling. "This was a really good idea. Three people became fathers today." 

"Just know that that's exactly what Zayn said and I hate you for that." He backs out of the spot and begins to drive home. Lilac meows and Louis nods. "See, even she resents you for it." She meows again and they both laugh. 

Everything with Harry is so carefree. Louis has never been so at ease with a person, not even Zayn. It's like every tense muscle in his body melts and he becomes a puddle of affection for Harry Styles. It's disgusting. 

When they arrive at Louis' flat, Louis opens the door and Harry sets Lilac down. She immediately springs out of the box and runs to the kitchen. 

"Good thing we got cat stuff before we got the actual cat. I can't imagine leaving this thing alone right now." They had placed the litter box in the laundry room and the food in the kitchen. They even made a tiny toy basket to put in the living room. 

"Welcome to parenthood. May the odds be ever in your favor." Harry brushes past Louis and takes his shoes off, going over to were Lilac is sitting. "She's going to be a monster. Of course you picked the cat most like you."

Louis walks over to the two of them. "I am not a monster."

"If you were a monster your name would be Spooky Sarcasm." Lilac meows to that and Harry shrugs. "See."

"Fuck you two." His cat is even siding with Harry.

"Hey." Harry covers the cats ears, much to her dismay. "No swearing around the children." 

"We had that child out of wedlock. What will the villagers think of us?" He says dramatically.

"We'll probably be burned at the stake. Or stoned to death." Harry stands up and brushes off his thighs.

"Thank God." Louis exhales. "This sin-ridden family is cursing the entire town."

"Two unmarried gays sharing custody of a child. That's sure to bring at least two hundred years of misery to Manchester, if not more."

"We'll never get out unscathed. I blame you." 

"You're an idiot." Harry giggles. He starts moving toward the sofa, still looking at Louis. "Come over here."

"Why." 

"Because I told you to." He sits down and sticks his tongue out and Louis can't say no to that.

He plops down next to Harry and they just look at each other.

"We have a cat." Louis states. Harry nods next to him.

"We have a cat." 

Lilac comes trotting over to the living room and sits in front of the television, staring at them. 

"Do you think she wants something." Harry asks. 

"If she does, she's not getting it." Lilac meows then drags a toy mouse out of the bin. "Or maybe she will." They watch her bat it around for a few minutes before Harry breaks the silence. 

"Maybe I should get a real job now that I'm a father. I need to support my child." Louis pushes him into the armrest and they both laugh. 

Sometimes Harry is too much for Louis to process. He's so genuine and witty and such a boy. If he's not touching Harry he's itching to do so. He just wants to be where Harry is all of the time and it fucking terrifies him. He can't remember the last time he's felt like this, then realizes that maybe he never has. What if this is the only time in his life he'll feel this way? What if he's wasting it? He decides to ignore that small detail and settles on watching Harry interact with their cat. He'll take what he can get for now.

x

All of Louis' days seem to begin and end with Harry. Whether it's a text, a Twitter notification, or actual Harry, he realizes that his plan to eradicate Harry's existence is failing. At this point, he's given up on trying to set boundaries. What's meant to happen will happen.

Christmas is in six days, Louis' birthday is in five, and Harry is in his passenger's seat. They're just sitting in Zayn's driveway. Louis isn't even sure if Zayn is home. 

"How many cars do you think we could fit on this driveway." Harry wonders out loud. 

"At least six nicely-sized SUVs." It's a solid estimate, given that Louis' Rover takes up a small section. 

"Why does he need a port for six nicely-sized SUVs?" Louis looks at Harry and shrugs. 

"Because he and Liam are too posh for this world. Lesson one on the two of them. Lesson number two is that Liam is submissive in their relationship." Harry's jaw drops and his eyebrows raise. 

"You're joking."

"Not at all." 

"Amazing." 

They stare out the windows for a couple minutes, Harry slurping on the milkshake he got when they went to lunch earlier. Louis likes how he and Harry can sit in complete silence and it will still be more entertaining and enjoyable than hanging out with anyone else. Watching Harry is one of his new favorite hobbies, as creepy as that sounds. He thinks Harry's picked up on his constant staring, but he's too nice to say anything. Zayn constantly makes fun of him for it. 

"What do you want for your birthday?" Breaking the silence, Harry turns to Louis. 

Honestly all that Louis wants is Harry next to him. However, he can't exactly tell him that. 

"I have everything I need." He says honestly. He doesn't want Harry to spend any money on him. It's his job to spoil Harry, not the other way around.

"Come on, Lou. There has to be something." 

Louis thinks for a moment before he remembers that Harry had mentioned he's handy when it comes to baking. "A nice, homemade cake."

"That's it?" He says in disbelief. 

"That's it. I'm going to my mum's for Christmas, and I want a lads day on my birthday. You, me, Zayn, Liam, and probably Niall. Just get me you and a cake." Harry smiles and starts nodding.

"Okay. Yeah. I can manage that."

It's silent again for the next few minutes, but it's comfortable. Louis doesn't know why they're sitting in Zayn's driveway of all places. They just ended up there. Louis wasn't thinking because Harry was talking with his molasses voice and his mind just took him to Zayn's house.

"You're my best friend." Harry says abruptly. Louis looks over at him and isn't completely confident that Harry meant to say that out loud. His cheeks turn pink and Louis couldn't suppress his smile with a gun to his head.

"Finally, a department I can beat Zayn in." He jokes. Harry laughs but keeps looking at Louis nervously. "Shit, Harry. I think you're mine, too." 

"We can both beat Zayn in that department then." Louis notices Harry's shoulders aren't as tense and he's hit with a wave of relief. He never wants Harry to feel like he's crossing a line. He could literally put his mouth on Louis' dick right now and Louis wouldn't say a word. 

"He's better at football." Louis admits, as much as it pains him to say it.

"That's debatable. Your ass looks better on the field than his." Louis knows that he should stop Harry, knows that if they pretend to flirt like this then his frustration will only grow. He can only wank so many times before it's just not enough anymore. 

He looks over at Harry with his mouth agape. "Harry Styles. Did you just use a swear word? In my car?" Harry giggles softly and one of his dimples pop up. 

"I forgot. I'm truly sorry." 

"I didn't raise you like this." Louis shakes his head. "And clearly my ass is better than his." 

"Bottom." Harry corrects. Louis has so much fondness inside of him for this boy. He's the universe. 

"You're right, my apologies."

"No, I meant bottom." Harry teases, referring to the time Louis came to practice and Zayn shouted his personal business throughout the locker room. 

"You fucker." He snorts. "You're also correct there."

"I'm a top." Harry unnecessarily adds, making Louis' breath hitch. He realizes he's digging his nails into his leg.

"Of course you are. Mr. Macho Styles would never submit to anyone." Harry shrugs and turns his body toward Louis.

"Maybe for the right person." If this is Harry referring to Louis as someone he would submit to, Louis would rather be mauled by a lion than continue the conversation. Honestly, being mauled would be less painful. 

"Oh please, you'd be crying within seconds."

"Crying out their name." He wiggles his eyebrows and Louis has to use all of his willpower to make his dick soften up a little. Having a boner in the car with Harry is an actual recipe for disaster. 

"Yeah right." Louis rolls his eyes. "How many people have you had sex with."

"Girls or guys?" 

"Both." Louis wasn't even adding girls to the equation, but now he's genuinely interested. Mostly because he wants to know which girl made Harry realize he liked dick.

"Three girls." Louis raises his eyebrows. "Shut up. The last one was like eight months ago. That was the final straw." He laughs. "Anyway. Um, like, four guys?" 

Harry is no blushing virgin and Louis regrets ever considering he was. Grimmy was right. 

"Well, you're certainly popular." 

"Probably not as popular as you. Tell me, what does it take to get in bed with Louis Tomlinson, star footy player?" Louis wants to choke either himself or Harry. He's not entirely sure which one is more appealing. 

"I'm drunk for more than half of my shags, Harry. If I'm drunk and someone fit comes on to me, it will most likely result in a hookup." Harry narrows his eyes. 

"That's it? You fuck anyone you find attractive and they're down for it? How do you do that?" Louis knows Harry didn't mean to come off as an asshole, but he still wants to watch him cover up his tracks. "I mean, no, I didn't mean you're not fit. Because you are. But, not like, I'm attracted to you or anything. Because we're just friends. I just-"

"I know what you mean." He decides that was well worth his time. "And to tell you the truth, I don't know why everyone is so eager to hook up with me. They probably just want to tell the story of how they once fucked a well-known footballer." Saying that out loud makes him realize just how easy it is for him to pick up people and it's kind of depressing. Would any of those people want him if he didn't have money or football?

"Well that's shallow of them." Harry says genuinely. 

"A man needs his serving of sex every now and then." 

"I haven't gotten any for months." Harry sighs. "That girl was the last person I hooked up with and I didn't even, like, enjoy it."

"You didn't come." Louis says the words for Harry. 

"Yeah. That." Louis laughs and Harry joins in. 

All Louis wants to do is have Harry to unravel beneath him. To watch his breathing slow and his face relax. He wants Harry to trust him enough to let Louis see him at his most vulnerable. He wants to kiss Harry so much his chest hurts. This is the first time in his life that he's actually longed to kiss someone slowly, not a fast, sloppy session. He wants to take his time with Harry and place lazy kisses all over him. He just needs his 'wants' to turn into 'cans'. Harry drives him so fucking crazy that he just doesn't know what to do with himself. Harry's voice alone makes Louis' body feel like it's on fire. There's no escaping his feelings anymore, no matter how hard he tries. 

Louis looks at Harry.

Harry looks at Louis. 

"Let's go back to my flat." Louis says on a whim, deciding that whatever the fuck happens today will happen. He'll deal with the aftermath at a later time. Right now, it's simple. He needs Harry to himself. He's aching for this lean, clumsy boy sitting next to him. The stupid curls resting on the side of his forehead and his stupidly pink lips have taunted Louis enough. If Harry doesn't want Louis, at least Louis can escape to the bathroom to wank. He's not going to survive another day like this. It's physically impossible. 

"Okay."

x

They're standing against Louis' kitchen island talking about Star Wars. 

"Rey is clearly a Skywalker." Harry argues, his hands gripping the countertop as he leans backwards on it. Louis can see tattoos under his white shirt and he is desperate to know what they look like wet. 

"You're so full of shit. Her being a Skywalker is too obvious. Plus, she has Obi-Wan's accent. And she pulled off the Jedi mind trick. Like, how did she know to do that? She's a Kenobi." Harry gives him an unconvinced look and Louis puts his hands on his hips. "Seriously?" 

"Anakin's light saber called out to her."

"Obi-Wan's voice told her that taking it was her first step." 

"I'm sticking with Skywalker." Harry crosses his arms and his biceps bulge below his rolled sleeves. 

"Kenobi. She and Kylo Ren are going to end up together. If they do, you owe me 100 quid." He sticks out his hand to seal the deal.

"And if she's a Skywalker, you owe me 100." Harry takes Louis' hand and shakes it firmly, looking Louis directly in the eye. Their hands break apart but their eye contact doesn't. 

"You're so ridiculous." 

"You make me this ridiculous." Harry says quietly but surely. 

Louis' drunk off of Harry. He doesn't even process what's happening until it happens. 

His mouth is on Harry's and Harry's gripping the counter again. Louis places his hands on either side of Harry's and can't think anything but 'this is Harry' . It takes a second, but Harry kisses back, breathing heavily. Nothing in his life has ever felt or tasted as good as Harry does and he doesn't doubt that for a second. Every single muscle in Louis' body is tense in the best way and he just wants to fucking take Harry right here but he knows he needs to pull back. 

He breaks away from Harry and sees his utterly shocked expression. 

"I-" He begins, but Harry takes a fistful of his shirt and pulls him back in. Harry fucking wanted this the whole time and Louis took for-fucking-ever to even realize it. He's such a fucking idiot but for now he just wants to memorize the moment. 

"Wait." Louis says, forcing himself to stop kissing Harry long enough to spit out a sentence. "Why didn't you fucking tell me you tosser."

"You're Louis Tomlinson." He breathes, his eyes literally fucking sparkling. "I didn't want to do anything until I was sure." He kisses Louis again and Louis laughs.

"You twat. I've been wanking to you for weeks." His hand is on Harry's chest and it's so firm and warm that Louis feels like he's completely escaped reality. Harry cackles then kisses Louis hard. Louis just takes it. He'll take anything Harry wants to give him. He's so fucked. 

Harry pushes Louis against the cabinet and puts his hands up his shirt so they land on his bare torso. "So fucking hot." Harry whispers, kissing Louis' neck. Louis melts into Harry's touch, his body pleading for more. It's no surprise that he's already rock hard and he knows Harry can feel it through his joggers. 

Louis' shirt ends up on the floor and Harry looks like he's never seen anything so appealing in his life. It's a feeling Louis knows all too well considering he's spent the last two months with actual walking sex. 

Louis goes to grab Harry's shirt then realizes he's never even seen Harry shirtless. This could be detrimental to his health. They break apart long enough for Harry's shirt to come off, the two of them snapping back together like there's a magnetic pull between them. Louis wants to look at Harry but he also wants to kiss him and never stop. 

"Go to the sofa." Louis mumbles against his mouth. Harry obliges and grabs Louis's hand, basically power-walking to the living area. They reach the couch and he pushes Louis onto the cushions, immediately getting on top of him. They're lying down and Louis' hands are on Harry's arse and he can feel Harry's cock on his leg and if he doesn't get some relief soon his dick may actually explode, and not in a good way. 

"Take these fucking trackies off." Louis orders. They're off in seconds, landing on the coffee table next to them. "Wait." Louis says. Harry instantly pauses and sits up on Louis' thighs.

"Is something wrong?" He asks, brow furrowed. Louis shakes his head.

"Just want to look at you. I've never seen you like this before. It's fucking driving me mad." He drinks in Harry's appearance, his tattoos making Louis need him even more. Harry is sitting on him smiling like an innocent angel and Louis wants to do so many filthy things to him it's not even funny.

"Every time I see you in nothing but boxers I have to keep my mouth shut and try not to look anywhere from your neck down." Harry says, pushing Louis' shoulder back onto the couch. "I don't have boundaries now, do I?' He slips Louis' joggers off and kisses his hip bones, biting on them as he reaches Louis' boxers. "These are always in the way, too." He slides them down Louis' legs and tosses them onto the pile of clothes that's accumulated next to them. Louis' erection is lying flat on his stomach and he knows this is about to be the shortest hookup of his life. Like, embarrassingly short. 

"Harry-" He begins but is cut off by Harry's tongue going up the side of his cock. He just swallows thickly and knows that his time to die has come. His hands thread into Harry's hair and he thinks that Harry may actually kill him if he doesn't do something more intense. Louis needs to get his shit together before he misses out on what Harry is doing to him. 

Harry's mouth pops off of him and the fucking arsehole smirks. "How badly do you want to come right now?" 

"Harry." Louis strains, not daring to look into his eyes. "I swear to God I will kill-" He feels the back of Harry's throat and an unnatural noise leaves his mouth. Harry hollows his cheeks and brings his hand up to Louis' balls, Louis feeling one of his rings against him. This is the memory he'll think of when he's on his deathbed. The first, and hopefully not last, time that he had Harry Styles' mouth on his cock. If it were appropriate he would probably tell his grandchildren the story at bedtime. 

Louis composes himself enough to tug on Harry's hair, eliciting a deep moan from him. Jesus fucking Christ. Someone's phone vibrates and neither of them even notice, both too absorbed in the other to realize anything outside of the two of them exists. 

Harry removes his mouth from Louis' throbbing erection and sits up. 

"What are you doing." Louis asks, only it sounds more like a plead for more. 

"These boxers are going to fucking rip if I don't take them off." Louis feel heat growing at the base of his spine and if he really just got off to Harry saying that then he needs to step up his game. 

Harry's pants are on the floor and Louis takes one look at Harry's cock before he begs Harry to put his mouth back on him. 

"Harry. Please just do something."

Harry smiles and comes back down to him, sucking on the tip. He goes further down from there, his nose touching Louis' stomach. One movement of Harry's tongue, Louis doesn't even have time to warn him, and he's coming in the back of his throat. He breathes Harry's name as it happens, Harry's mouth on him throughout the entire thing. 

Louis opens his eyes and finds Harry hovering over him, cheeks flushed. He's the most beautiful person Louis has ever met. This is what Louis has wanted for the past two months. Just him and Harry, both wild and lusting after each other. He doesn't think he's ever been this happy before.

"Now." Harry says deeply but smiling. "If I don't come soon I will probably die." Louis doesn't need any more coaxing. He takes Harry's cock in his hands and barely has to touch him before Harry's body tenses above him. "Louis." He pants, his eyes shut tightly, mouth parted. "Just wanna come on that pretty stomach of yours." 

This is a lot more overwhelming than Louis had ever imagined. 

With one hand wrapped around Harry, he pulls Harry's head down and starts giving him love bites on his neck. Harry shudders when he rubs his thumb over his tip, and Louis watches him come undone, spurting hot and sticky on his stomach. Pulling Harry down on top of him, he kisses him much more tenderly than they had previously done. Harry kisses him back, one hand splayed out on Louis' chest beneath him. 

"Fuck, Louis." Harry says, raising his head. Louis grins and they both giggle a bit. "I totally meant what I said in the car about you being fit."

"So I've gathered." Harry smiles even wider then leans down to kiss Louis again. 

Reality starts to settle in and Louis knows that this has to be kept a secret from the team and the public. If word gets out that he's involved with a barely-legal laundry boy, his career may be in jeopardy. Plus, this on top of barely being publicly out of the closet would be a death sentence.

"Harry." Louis pushes Harry off of him a bit. Harry looks at him confused and he sighs. "No one can know about this." He looks hurt but nods. 

"I figured." He sits up on Louis' thighs again and looks down to where his clothes are in a pile. 

"I want nothing more than to tell everyone I know that I hooked up with the most attractive person on the planet, but you'd lose your job and who knows what the media would concoct about me. I'm just starting out and it's fucking terrifying." He puts his hands on his face and groans. The weight of Harry lifts from his thighs and he figures he's leaving, because that's what people do after they fuck Louis. They leave. Now things will probably be awkward between the two of them and Louis just needs for Harry to stay. Just this once. Everyone else who left after sex can never speak to Louis again and he won't mind. But if Harry blows him off, he'll be in pieces. This was possibly a bad idea. 

He feels a towel wiping off his stomach and he takes his hands off of his eyes to see Harry in his trackies, already cleaned off. 

"What are you doing?" Louis asks, sitting up. Harry takes the towel in one hand and Louis' joggers in the other, shoving the latter into his chest. 

"Do people not do this?" Harry asks him, paranoid. No, he thinks, no one even stays long enough for him to get two words across. 

"I'm not used to it." He says truthfully. "It's okay." 

He takes his joggers and slides them on, standing up next to Harry. "Got some marks right there." His fingers graze Harry's neck and Harry covers them with his own, grinning.

"Tosser."


	8. Chapter Seven

It's Louis' birthday and he hasn't seen any of his friends since he and Harry hooked up. Zayn still doesn't know about it, but only because he wants to see his facial expression when he tells him. It's the little things. 

His flat is sparkling clean, not that any of the guys would care. Liquor is sufficiently stocked, the cat is fed, and Louis is showered and clean shaven, his hair swept up off his forehead. It's five-thirty and the lads will be there at six, so he has time to kill. Crisps need to be set out and the pizza should be arriving within the next twenty minutes, so the food is almost handled.

After putting the bags of crisps on the island, he sits down and gets on his phone. He and Harry haven't really talked since that Sunday afternoon. It's just been casual texts a few times a day or a couple Snapchats. Harry had to finish up the remainder of his schoolwork before winter hols and Louis has been practicing football and teaching himself how to play the guitar. Thanks to Harry, he has a newfound love for that thing. The first song he learned was 'From Afar', the one they had danced to that evening so many weeks ago. 

While scrolling through Twitter, he stumbles upon a picture of him and Harry at lunch on Sunday, the caption reading 'Tomlinson's new beau? Newly-out Manchester United star spotted getting cozy with unknown brunette.'. It was taken from outside the building, and he's laughing at something Harry had said while Harry smiles back at him. Fuck. It's only a matter of time before Ben sees the picture and recognizes Harry. Ben knows that Louis and Harry are friends, so he could just convince him the paps are dumbasses and misconstrued the whole thing. God, this is such a mess already and it's not even been a week. 

He reads through the comments and sees that most of them are people believing the reporter, but his focus lands on one at the very bottom of the thread. 'Isn't that the water boy?'. And there it is. People already suspect that something is happening between the two of them, and rightfully so. They aren't dating, nowhere close to it, but their flirting is obvious, and so is the attraction to each other. He doesn't even know if Harry has feelings for him or not. All he knows is that Harry looked like he had been wanting to take Louis' clothes off since the day they met. Louis relates to that on a spiritual level. 

His timeline is filled with celebrity tweets that he just scrolls past, news, and tweets from fans that he follows. Apparently word has gotten around that Louis may be dating 'the water boy' so he snoops on some accounts for a few minutes. Another picture of the two of them is circulating and it's of the two heading into Louis' building. Harry is holding the door for Louis while Louis smiles at him. Why are they always fucking smiling at each other? He wasn't even aware it was a thing. 

Someone knocks on the door, scaring the absolute shit out of him. Swearing, he walks over to the door and opens it to reveal the pizza guy. Well, technically the pizza girl. 

"Hi!" She greets with a simper. Louis gives her a small smile in return.

"What's the damage." As he takes the receipt, he sees the girl juggling four pizzas out of the corner of his eye. Once the receipt is signed, he waits to give it to her until he's handling the boxes. "I'll take those. They look like they're causing a bit of trouble." The girl laughs and hands over the pizza. 

"Louis, right?" 

"Yeah. Footy player. Capricorn. Cat owner. All of the good stuff." He jokes. She raises an eyebrow. 

"You have a cat?" Louis is impressed, and sort of relieved, that that's the question she chose. 

"Lilac. I'm surprised she's not bolting out the door right now. She usually makes a run for it." 

"That's cute." She tucks the receipt in her pocket and nods her head. "Anyway, I should get going. Nice meeting you!" She waves and Louis bids her off, closing the door after she walks away. Louis stacks the pizza on the countertop and is willing himself not to eat any yet. He is the birthday boy, but that doesn't mean he can be a prick. 

Within five minutes of the pizza arriving, there's another knock on the door and Louis knows it's one of the lads. The door opens and Harry comes in, an opaque container under one arm. 

"Hey." He greets, walking over to Louis in the kitchen. 

"Letting yourself in now?" He jokes. Harry genuinely looks worried for a second before he realizes Louis is kidding. 

"My child lives here. I have the right to barge in if I need to." Lilac comes trotting into the kitchen when she hears Harry's voice and goes over to rub against his legs. Louis doesn't blame her. Harry's wearing ripped black skinnies and a strange, sheer, floral blouse that's only buttoned halfway. His classic brown boots are on his feet and Louis feels so fond it's alarming. 

"You're the favorite parent." Harry's jawline is making Louis' brain fuzzy. Harry must notice his ogling because he stands up from petting the cat and walks over to Louis, putting one hand on his hip. 

"Happy birthday, babe." He says softly before planting a kiss on Louis' lips. Okay, so maybe that's not a thing friends do. For now, though, he'll keep the 'mates' label. 

"Thank you." He replies, looking over Harry's shoulder at the container he brought. "Is that my cake?" A smirk spreads across Harry's face and Louis wants to kiss him until his lips are sore. 

"Yes, but it's a surprise. No looking at it until it's time to blow out the candles." He takes a step back from Louis right as Zayn and Liam bust through the front door, Niall in tow. 

"They don't knock either." Louis says as Zayn yells a greeting. 

"Happy birthday, Tommo!" He cheers, coming over to give Louis a bear hug. Harry goes into the living area and Louis watches him until he's due to respond to Zayn. 

"Thanks, Zaynie." He pulls away and beams at Zayn, who is apparently the line leader up to Louis. Liam hugs him after, and Niall just shakes his hand. 

"Gentlemen, I have a daughter." Louis picks up Lilac and shows her off Lion King-style, evoking a couple 'awws' from Liam and Niall.

"I'm an uncle-in-law." Liam says proudly, sitting on one of the stools surrounding the island. "What a beauty."

Zayn sits on Liam's lap and nods. "Does she get into stuff?" 

"All the time." Harry smiles, looking over at the cat then up at Louis. Louis quickly looks away then sets the cat on the floor. He should probably get Zayn in the loop soon. 

"Well, if you guys are hungry, pizza is waiting. I have plenty of beer and vodka over there as well. I believe I have fruit punch as the mixer tonight." 

"Thank god." Niall exhales, making a beeline for the beer. 

"Rough day?" Liam laughs. Niall nods aggressively before literally chugging the beer. Louis is halfway surprised he didn't just shotgun it. Never doubt an Irishman's love for alcohol, he supposes.

"Zayn, follow me, mate." Louis says quietly nodding his head toward the bathroom. Zayn looks skeptical but obeys, both lads getting up and walking into the powder room. Louis shuts the door behind them and locks it, just to be safe. 

"Yes, it's your birthday and all, but no, I won't jerk you off in the bathroom." He jokes. Louis gives him a weak smile.

Zayn is looking at him expectantly and Louis just sighs in defeat. "Harry and I hooked up on Sunday." Zayn's face was definitely worth the wait. It's a mixture of surprise, relief, anger, and joy. 

"Why didn't you tell me? What the fuck, Louis?" Zayn asks, trying to act angrier than he actually is. Louis knows that deep down his inner monologue is popping open a bottle of champagne.

"Congrats, Louis!" Louis mocks. "I'm so glad you finally shagged the guy you've been wanking over for two months! Good for you!"

"Louis. Are you okay with it? Like, was it just a hookup?" It's so typical for Zayn to be worried about his mental state at this point because he does have feelings for Harry, and a hookup is only going to make them worse. But, if anything, he feels more at ease around Harry now that some of the sexual tension has cleared up. It's still there, obviously, but not nearly as thickly. 

"Yeah. We agreed that this has to stay between us, though. Twitter was buzzing today with pictures of us and rumours of us dating. All from a dumb picture of us out at lunch." Zayn purses his lips. 

"So, no making fun of you two at practice?" Louis rolls his eyes and Zayn snickers. "Okay, yes, I know. So, now I don't have to wonder about the two of you. Thank God. I thought you would never fuck. I could barely stand being in a room with the two of you. It's like I was choking on the tension." Champagne. Streamers. The whole lot. 

"Says the man on the outside of it. I don't know how I survived as long as I did."

"Kudos to you, mate." Zayn raises a fake glass and smiles. "Now, I'm starving. Excuse me while I eat the pizza you paid for." Louis steps out of the way as Zayn exits the bathroom, following him back out to the other three guys. 

"Quickie in the loo?" Liam jokes, clutching a beer in one hand, a slice of pizza in the other. 

"You know it." Louis wiggles his eyebrows and Zayn gives them a thumbs up. 

"Birthday blow job." Zayn adds. Louis looks at Harry who is smirking again. He had better not get any ideas. 

One box of pizza is already cleared out and there's an empty can on the counter. 

"Niall, you're really going to be knocking them back tonight, aren't you?" Louis asks, grabbing himself a slice of pizza and a cup for a mixed drink. 

"Meeting my girlfriend's family tomorrow. No way to feel better about it than getting drunk and being a hungover wreck when I see them." He takes another bite of pizza and the boys laugh. 

"Since when do you have a girlfriend?" Zayn asks. He's standing with his arm around Liam's waist, coolly sipping a beer. Twat. 

"Seven months. Barbara. She's a model." Niall says proudly. "Love her to death." He pulls out his phone and looks for, what Louis is assuming, a picture of Barbara. Sure enough, he brings one up and shows everyone. Barbara is sitting on a hotel bed in a robe with a towel on her head, exerting a genuine laugh. Niall is undoubtedly the photographer.

"I'd love her to death too." Louis admits. She's absolutely gorgeous, and in the picture she's looking at Niall like he's the only person in the world. "You know, if I liked girls."

"Good thing you don't. I'd beat your arse before you could even try to get with her." He sticks his phone away and Harry moves closer to Louis. 

"Louis, didn't you think that music would be a good thing to have for tonight?" Zayn sniggers. Shit. He had totally forgotten to turn it on. Goddamn Harry Styles.

"Everything is set up, I just forgot to actually turn it on."

"I'll do it." Zayn sighs, breaking away from Liam and heading over to the stereo system. Louis feels a pinch on his hip and looks down to see Harry's long, slender fingers grazing his shirt. He leans into his touch ever so slightly and a small smile dances on Harry's lips. 

'Back to Sleep' starts blasting throughout the flat and Zayn comes back looking satisfied. "The party has officially begun. Happy fuckin' birthday, Louis. Twenty-five and only getting older and closer to death." Everyone cheers to that and drinks. Louis is twenty-five years old. An eighteen-year-old is standing next to him and he can't think of anyone else he'd rather be with. Everything is surprisingly good. 

x

About three hours later, Louis is really starting to feel drunk, Niall having reached that point an hour earlier. Liam and Zayn are drunkenly arguing over Liam's song choices and Harry is sitting at the end of the couch staring blankly ahead of him. Louis scoots over to him and puts his hand on his thigh. 

"Is it bad that my closest friends came to celebrate my birthday and I should be partying with them, but all I want to do is kiss you?" He whispers into Harry's ear. Harry turns to him and keeps his face neutral, whatever the fuck that means. Louis waits for a response and hears Niall cursing in the background. 

"I want to show you a new song I learned on the guitar." Harry responds smoothly. He stands up and tells the boys they're going to Louis' room so he can play a song for the birthday boy. Zayn snorts but doesn't say anything. Louis follows Harry up the winding steps, even if it is a little hard to balance on them. Once they reach Louis' room, Harry opens the door and closes it immediately after Louis enters. Louis doesn't even get to breathe before Harry's mouth is ravaging his, his hands frantically grabbing whatever part of Louis they can find. Okay, so the song was a lie. 

He's pushed up against the door, the weight of Harry pinning him so he can barely move. Harry smells like Burberry and vodka, his mouth tasting like his punch mixture. This is the exact birthday gift he wanted when he told Harry to bring himself. Happy fucking birthday, Louis Tomlinson. 

Harry stops kissing him and looks at him with wild eyes. "God. How am I supposed to pretend I don't want to bend you over every surface and fuck you senseless whenever I'm around you?" Louis gulps and suddenly feels a lot drunker than he did two minutes ago. 

"So, you are going to top with me." Louis points out. Harry runs his hand through his hair and Louis realizes that Harry is even drunker than he is. Drunk Harry is a sight for sore eyes. 

"I'll do whatever you want me to do to you. Anything." Harry is basically begging Louis for some form of sex and Louis isn't about to say no to that. 

"Put me on the bed." Louis commands. Harry doesn't waste any time in grabbing Louis' bum, Louis' legs wrapping around Harry's waist. They kiss filthily as they make their way to the bed, Harry setting Louis down without breaking them apart. "You wear this fucking shirt," Louis grumbles, tugging on Harry's blouse, "and expect me to be okay with it." He undoes the buttons and nearly rips it off of Harry, tossing it on the floor. His hands explore Harry's torso, feeling the bumps of muscle lining his core. 

"Only wore it so I had a better chance of you wanting to fuck me." Harry breathes, his breath hot on Louis' neck. 

"I want to fuck you when you're wearing your work uniform. Clothes don't make a difference." Harry pushes him back onto the mattress, pinning his wrists above his head. 

"Jesus. Look at you." Harry is looking at Louis like he's never wanted something so badly in his life. Louis knows that feeling, too. 

"I want my mouth on you. Now." Louis says gruffly. Harry smirks and lets go of Louis' wrists, standing up. 

"Can't turn that down." He drops his pants and boxers in one motion and they trade places. Louis kneels on the ground next to the bed and takes Harry's erection into his hand. Harry's stomach clenches when Louis starts to move his hand, and he grips the duvet when Louis' mouth reaches his cock. "So fucking good, baby." He whines as Louis works his mouth around him. 

Louis hears a soft moan escape Harry's lips and repeats the motion he had done previously with his tongue. Looking up at him, Louis can see that Harry's eyes are squeezed shut and his lips are slightly parted. He's beautiful.

"Fuck." Harry breathes, gripping Louis' hair. His hips move up off the mattress and Louis is getting so incredibly turned on from just sucking Harry off. He could do this for the rest of his life. 

They stay like that for a minute, Harry softly running his hands across Louis' head, whispering his name. Louis' jaw starts to ache a tiny bit, but he'll be damned if he lets Harry down because of it. 

"Stop." Harry says suddenly. Louis removes his mouth from Harry's cock, a string of spit still connecting the two. Harry just blinks at the sight of it. "Um."

"What?" Louis knows he didn't use teeth and he knows that Harry wanted, begged, for this. Why on earth would he want to stop?

"Sit on my lap." Now it's Louis' turn to blink with a blank expression. Harry scoots up against the headboard and pats his thigh. "Come here." 

Louis is on Harry's thighs within seconds, wondering where this is going. Harry leans in and kisses Louis softly. Without warning, Harry's hands are wrapped around both his and Louis' cocks, simultaneously jerking them off. Oh. Their lips don't leave each other as Louis groans, Harry biting down on his lower lip. 

Louis feels Harry tighten up beneath him and he can tell he's trying not to come too soon. 

"Harry." He breathes, their foreheads resting together, eyes closed. "Come for me, baby." It's like those are the magic words, because for the second time in a week, Harry is coming all over Louis' torso, and Louis fucking loves it. Even through his orgasm, Harry keeps a hand on Louis, his motions growing sloppier. It takes very little time before Louis is coming, too, the two of them turning into hot and sticky messes. Harry absolutely wrecks Louis and he hates to admit it, but it's all he ever wants. 

"You know." Harry says, clearing his throat. "You blew me, but that doesn't count as blowing out candles. Plus, that cake I made you is pretty damn delicious." Louis leans back from Harry a little and raises an eyebrow. 

"You ate a piece of my cake?" He pouts.

"Don't trust a chef who won't eat his own food." He smiles, goosing Louis' bum. Louis yelps and plants one more kiss on Harry's lips. 

"Let's go test out this 'pretty damn delicious' cake of yours. Well, the actual cake, not your cake. I already know that that's good." Harry shoves him and Louis laughs, climbing off of the bed. "Let me clean up a little first. Can't have the birthday boy covered in your future children."

After freshening up, they make their way downstairs and find the three boys drinking while staring at the cat. Not exactly what Louis was expecting, but it could be worse. 

"Is Lilac that interesting?" Louis jokes, reaching the couch. Harry stands behind him, holding his hand. They're disgusting. 

"Just trying to remember the good old days when I didn't know what you two having sex sounded like." Zayn says, rubbing his temples. Niall cackles and Liam looks slightly disgruntled. "Sorry, but I don't care if it's your birthday. Some people just don't like to hear their mates get laid."

"Do you know how many times I've heard you and Liam going at it? I don't appreciate the slander, Mr. 'Liam, babe, you're so fucking tight and fit'." Both Liam and Zayn blush and Niall laughs even harder. "That's right. Give it to me and I'll throw it right back."

"Okay!" Harry says like he's trying to lighten the mood. "If everyone would please move to the kitchen, it's time for Louis to blow out the candles on the cake." They grunt and get up, walking over to the island. Louis trails behind Harry, only doing so because he loves watching his arse. He watches as Harry removes the lid from the container, revealing a round cake topped off with green and blue icing. "I was going to do Man U colors, but then I thought, 'no, I'll do our favorite colors'". 

"Harry." Louis says, smiling so big it should probably hurt. It says 'happy birthday Louis' with a heart on it and Louis sees Zayn roll his eyes. 

"Happy birthday to you-" Harry starts singing. The other boys chime in quickly, all of them grinning at Louis. Harry starts exaggerating the song and Zayn joins him, the two of them harmonizing in a ridiculous way. Louis is so incredibly lucky to have these people in his life. He's so incredibly lucky to have, literally, stumbled into Harry that one day at practice. He's lucky that Harry exists. They finish the song and Louis blows out the candles.

He wishes for everything to be okay this next year. 

He doesn't tell anyone, though.

x

Pulling into his mum's driveway is like pulling into a safe zone. The second he steps foot on her property it's like nothing in the world matters but the fact that he's with his mum. Christmas has always been one of his favorite holidays, and spending it with his family is a huge factor in that.

He gets out of his Rover and walks up to the front door, knowing that it would be stupid to knock. When he finds the door unlocked, he opens it and is immediately bombarded by two happy girls. 

"Well, you certainly don't waste time." He laughs, hugging both of them at once. 

"You brought presents!" Daisy points at the bag Louis is carrying on his left shoulder. 

"Of course I brought presents. I'm no scrooge." He sets the bag down by the christmas tree and goes into the kitchen to find Lottie and Felicite decorating cookies. "Where's mum?" He asks, the two girls' heads snapping up. 

"Hello to you too you prick." Lottie laughs, setting down the tube of icing and meeting Louis for a hug. 

"Come on, Fiz. I know you're too cool to acknowledge me, but I need a hug." She rolls her eyes and hugs Louis like she's being forced to. She's not big on touching and Louis knows that, but he can't just not get a hug from his sister. 

"Mum's upstairs getting ready. Dan is coming over in an hour with the twins." Lottie says while munching on a cookie. 

"Like we need more kids in this house." Fizzy snorts, going back to decorating. "Plus, Phoebe and Daisy are going to shit if they have to wait much longer to open presents." 

"Who's Dan?" Louis asks, bewildered. The two girls just stare at him like they revealed the biggest secret of all time. 

"Mum didn't tell you about Dan?" Fizzy says cautiously. She raises her eyebrows and sighs. "Interesting."

"Well, Dan is her boyfriend and the twins are three. Doris and Ernie. They're his kids from a previous marriage or whatever. Super cute, though." Lottie fills him in on what he needs to know, but the biggest question has yet to be answered. 

"How long have they been seeing each other?" Louis asks. If no one even bothered to mention this the last time he visited, he will be a little outraged.

"Six months? Seven? Honestly, I don't know exactly. All I know is that it's been sort of low-key." Lottie shrugs. She can clearly tell Louis is pissed off because her expression turns from uninterested to sympathetic. "She really didn't even mention it?"

"No. She didn't. You two didn't either." He turns around and starts to make his way upstairs. He hears his sisters whispering behind him and he knows they're telling each other off for not including Louis in his mother's life. It's partially his fault. He's always so distant, caught up in his own little world. His family always crosses his mind, but he fails to call on a regular basis. 

"Mum?" Louis says loudly, knocking on her bedroom door. 

"Come in!" He steps into her room and finds her sat on a stool in front of her vanity, wearing a maroon sweater and black jeans. She looks thinner than he remembers.

"Hi." He grins, hugging her while she does her makeup. 

"How's my beautiful son." She smiles back, setting down her brush to hug him. 

"I'm wonderful. How are you doing?" He pulls away and leans against the wall next to her. 

"Just darling." Louis waits for something, anything, about Dan to come out of her mouth, but it never comes. 

"You're seeing someone?" His mum freezes and sighs, knowing she's been caught. 

"Yes. Dan Deakin." She admits, turning to her son. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" He isn't angry. He's just feeling a bit left out of his own family. 

"Because, I just-- I wasn't sure how serious it would become. He has two kids, a good job, a nice house, and he's a wonderful man. He's good with the girls and I didn't want to tell you in case we broke up, because I knew you'd be angry at him for coming into our lives then leaving. You're very protective of us, Louis." Like any of that even matters anymore. He understands not telling him after two months, but seven? 

"So, were you ever going to tell me? Or was I going to find out from a wedding invitation?" He scoffs, crossing his arms.

"Louis." She says with sad eyes. "You're keeping something from me, too."

His stomach drops because, yeah, he did fail to mention Harry. Wonderful and beautiful Harry Styles who makes him feel more in one day than he's ever felt in his 25 years of living. Harry is in Louis' bubble and he forgets that not everyone knows about the incredible boy who smells like Burberry and laughs like an angel.

"That doesn't make your situation okay." He mumbles, toeing the floor. 

"I know." There's a pause. "What are you hiding?"

He doesn't want to tell his mum because the second he does, Harry becomes something. He becomes more than the boy in his bed in Manchester. More than the boy whose hair falls into his eyes when he sleeps, whose skin glows when the moonlight hits it. More than the boy he's trying not to love. He becomes the boy Louis loves but won't tell. 

He understands why his mum kept Dan from him.

"Mum." Tears spring to his eyes and he hates that he's crying over this and he hates that he's afraid of having feelings. His mum grabs his hand and waits. "I think I love him." She pulls him into her and he forgets how much he needs his mother's hugs. 

"What's his name? Is it the boy from the article?" He doesn't say anything and she clearly takes that as confirmation. "Does he make you happy and treat you well?"

"More than anyone ever has." He smiles. He wonders if anyone has ever met Harry and not loved him. Is that even possible? Harry just seems endless, which seems a bit odd to say but it's the only thing Louis can comprehend sometimes. He's endless by means of his thoughts and his words and he's just this pool of rugged-and-indie boy who can sing and suck dick like a fucking professional. 

"I need a name to put to the face, love." She chuckles. They're both happily tearing up because Louis is genuinely happy for the first time in months, probably years. 

"Harry." He says fondly, thinking of curls and crinkly smiles. "Harry Styles." 

His mum just gives him a closed smile and squeezes him so tightly it almost hurts. "I'm so glad you've found him."

"You always said I'd stumble upon the right person at the right time. Harry and I literally stumbled into each other at the stadium a couple months ago. It's like I've loved him since that moment without even realizing it. It's like my body finally found its home." He's not even talking to his mum at this point. He's just thinking out loud because, fuck. Harry isn't even his boyfriend or his date; he's just a boy who likes a good shag every now and then. They're friends, yet Louis always seems to forget that small detail. 

"That's fate, bear." Jay looks so intensely happy that Louis wonders why he ever kept this a secret for a single second. Her smile fades after a couple seconds and Louis' eyebrows raise. 

"What's wrong?" 

"Louis," Jay begins. "I-" She's cut off by Daisy barging into the room, yelling something about Dan and presents before quickly exiting. "Well, must be time for the highlight of the day." She stands up and takes one last look at herself in the mirror before heading for the door. "Coming?"

Louis just stands there trying to conceal the look of concern on his face. "Coming."

x

The fireplace is crackling and warm while Lottie plays with Doris and Ernie, and Phoebe and Daisy mess with their new pink Polaroids. Louis and Felicite are sat on the couch watching the madness in front of them. Jay and Dan are talking in the kitchen. 

Louis watches the flames in the hearth and thinks of pink lips, tattoos, and his stupid tongue. Harry is probably enjoying time with his sister and parents, the four of them chatting and drinking egg nog or something. His hair is probably tucked under his stupid beanie and he's probably swimming in an over-sized knit jumper. Fuck Harry Styles. Louis hasn't texted him all day and he's not sure for whose sake. It's slowly making him decay from the inside out. When did he get this bad, again?

With no intention of receiving a gift in return, Louis got Harry an old record player, similar to the one Harry fawned over in his dining room. He hasn't given it to him yet and he's not sure if he even will. Harry probably didn't even think about them exchanging gifts and Louis doesn't want to get ahead of himself. 

The box is sitting in his backseat, fully wrapped with a bow on it.

He loves his family, he really does, but right now nothing is more appealing than curling up on the sofa with Harry while Zayn and Liam bicker next to them. His family is his everything, but Harry, Zayn, Liam, and Niall are his home. 

Louis decides to shoot Zayn a text before it gets too late. He was taking Liam to his family's house until 1, then they were driving to Liam's family's house for the night. "Happy Christmas, oh, thou chosenth one." 

He immediately gets a response. "Happy Christmas, twat." 

"Who's that?" Fizzy asks, startling Louis to the point where he drops his phone on the floor. 

"Jesus, Fiz." He breathes, picking his phone up. 

"Sorry. You look a little invested in your thoughts." She definitely thinks that Louis is some remarkably huge loser who pretends he's hot shit because he has money and, oh, is she right. 

He turns his body toward her and raises an eyebrow. "Has Lottie... mentioned anyone?" 

"No?" She looks borderline annoyed. 

"Good. Anyway, I was just talking to Zayn." He settles back into the couch and Fizzy pushes his shoulder. 

"You can't just ask me that and not elaborate!" 

He pushes her back, as juvenile as it is. "I think I can, actually." 

"Why does Lottie get to know everything? You two formed an alliance and it's not fair." She crosses her arms and pouts, looking at the fire. Louis looks at Lottie who is laughing to herself. 

"Fine, God." Louis huffs. "I'm... involved... with someone." She throws him a side-eyed glance then scrunches her nose up.

"Actually, now that I think about it, I'd rather be scalped than hear about your sex life." 

He looks triumphant. "That's what I figured." 

"But who is it?" Trying not to act interested, Felicite brings her legs up under herself and turns to Louis. 

Louis laughs. "Do you want details or not? Make up your mind." 

"Just spare me from the gore and enlighten me on the glory." She rolls her eyes. It's a good thing people like to ask about Harry because Harry just so happens to be Louis' favorite conversational topic. However, he figures that after his (self)-allotted five minutes of Harry fondness is up, whoever asked fully regrets ever doing so. 

"Fine. His name is Harry. He's almost 19. He works for the team. He can sing and bake. We have a cat togeth-" Lottie makes a surprised noise, cutting Louis off.

"Seriously?" She exclaims. "For fuck's sake, Lou. You're basically married with children."

Louis hears his mom pull the language card from the kitchen and the three of them just roll their eyes. 

"It's a cat, Lotts. Not a human baby. Cat." She raises her eyebrows and mouths 'okay' before returning to Doris, who is whining about something. 

He turns back to Fizzy who is looking at him expectantly. "That's it?" She asks, evidently knowing that Louis lives to talk about Harry. 

"No, I was just rudely interrupted." He shoots a look at Lottie before continuing. "He's pretty much model material, not even going to try to underestimate his looks here. Brown curly hair, nice jawline, delicious pink lips." Louis ignores the fake gagging coming from his sister next to him. "Overall, he's a good lad." 

"A good lad that you're probably already madly in love with and are going to be completely fucked up and over by because he sounds like he's sort of, I don't know, not got his shit together." He blinks and rubs his palms on his thighs. That thought had occurred to him before, but that was weeks ago. Right now, he was feeling invincible. Well, until his sister shattered the illusion of a perfect life. It feels like someone slapped him in the face.

"Thanks for the reality check, Fiz. Can always count on you to keep me grounded." 

"I believe that's my role in this family and I plan to carry it out the best I can." She says proudly. 

"You're doing a great job." 

For the rest of the evening, he can't stop thinking about what Fizzy told him. She's hit the nail on the head with this one, Louis not even realizing how far he was letting himself go with Harry emotionally. Earlier in the month, he had tried to distance himself from Harry, but had failed miserably. The only difference then was that he was avoiding physical torture. Now, though, he should probably be wary of emotional torture. Harry isn't permanent. He doesn't have his shit figured out, he lives with his parents, and he definitely isn't looking for something long-term at his age. Who is? 

Louis feels sick to his stomach even thinking about blocking out emotion during sex with Harry, because then what's the point, but he knows it's something that needs to be done. Over the years, he's learned that he needs to be his own shield. It's impossible to just put a band-aid on something as emotionally riveting as a fling with Harry Styles ending, and Lord knows he can't just erase this portion of his life. Nipping it in the bud is his only option. 

There's one tiny thing telling him no. It's the fact that he's undoubtedly never been this happy in his life. 

Throwing away Harry means throwing away happiness. However, staying emotionally attached to Harry then being left results in his happiness also being drained from him.

It's a catch fucking twenty-two.


	9. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry I've taken forever to update. I've had 3/4 of this finished for about two weeks now and I finally got around to finishing it at 3am. I just graduated from high school (excuse number one) and I've been going to the doctor's at least twice a week to figure out what's wrong with me, so there are my reasons behind taking forever (other than me being lazy). This chapter is a bit short, but I figure that a little bit is better than nothing. Thank you so much!

It's New Year's Eve and Louis hasn't had a lengthy or worthwhile conversation with Harry since his birthday party. 

This time, there's no excuse. The past few days have had nothing of significance take place. The most exciting thing Louis did was get sushi from Tesco. Harry tried to contact him and Louis was sort of short with him. Naturally, he's taking his own insecurities out on someone else. 

The problem with his method of protecting himself is that Harry deserves everything good the world has to give him. Harry is love. He radiates it and spreads it and induces it and Jesus Christ Louis is such an asshole. 

This is the soft side of him, he thinks. The sandpaper-rough side will shine through once he clears out the single layer of hope and affection, which has grown a lot thicker since he met Harry. 

Staring at his bedroom ceiling is a lousy way to spend New Year's Eve. 

He swings his legs over the side of the mattress and rubs his eyes. It's four in the afternoon and he looks like a slug. 

His chest aches and he tells himself it's not due to a lack of hearing Harry's voice, but he can't even lie to himself anymore. It's pathetic.

Zayn has been rolling his eyes at Louis for a week now, begging him to drag his ass out of his flat and stop moping because he's doing this to himself. Lilac even misses Harry. 

Why is Harry all he can think about?

Within seconds, probably within record time, actually, Louis' phone is pressed against his ear, the other line ringing. On the second ring, Harry accepts the call.

"Hey!" Louis knows he's smiling just by his tone of voice. 

"Hey." A soft smile plays on Louis' lips and his body begins to warm from the drawl of Harry's voice. 

"What's up? I feel like I haven't talked to you for ages." Louis is going straight to hell. Straight to the seventh layer. 

"Yeah, I've been... yeah." There's no point in lying because Harry knows Louis is a couch potato when given the chance. "What are you doing tonight?" Cringe. Walking on eggshells around Harry is one of the strangest feelings. 

"Uh, I was going to hang out with Niall and Nick for most of the evening. Why? Did you want to do something?" The eagerness in Harry's voice makes Louis light up inside, but he doesn't let it derail his plans to act cool and collected. 

"No, no. You've already made plans and I refuse to be the person who wrecks them. I'm an asshole, but not that much of an asshole." He definitely is, though. 

"Is me getting a midnight kiss from you a sure thing? I was worried you wouldn't call." If hearing a smirk is a thing, Louis is experiencing it. Planned midnight kisses mean promises, and avoiding any form of a beyond-sex relationship is one of the hypothetical bullet points in Louis' hypothetical how-to-detach-one-from-Harry-Styles rule book. 

How to ask Harry Styles if he wants a fling or something real should be a novel available in libraries globally. 

"I mean, I'm not promising anything." He knows damn well he'll end up kissing Harry if they're together. 

"I'll pick you up at eleven." Harry states, not really giving Louis a chance to think about anything that's happening. Louis has never even been inside Harry's car. 

"Eleven." 

"Also, don't even bother asking where we're going. It's a surprise."

"I genuinely hope the night ends with you murdering me." Louis mutters. 

"Well, if it did it wouldn't exactly be with a weapon." Harry says slyly. Louis needs to hang up the fucking phone and invite Zayn over so he can whine a little more. 

"I'm hanging up. Also, I hate you." Obviously not true, even though it is. 

"I hate you, too." His tone is playful and definitely not at all endearing. Nope. 

Fuck. 

Louis hangs up and throws himself back onto his mattress. Zayn most likely won't even come over if Louis asks him to, but it never hurts to try. There's no way on God's green earth that Zayn is doing anything productive anyway. He shoots Zayn a 'come over' text and looks at the guitar in the corner of his room. 

Vance Joy is his go-to for guitar playing, and learning 'Straight Into Your Arms' is on his musical bucket list. With seven hours to kill, why the hell not cross it off.

He gets up and grabs the guitar, settling into the chair next to his closet. 

It only takes him two hours to perfect the song. 

In those two hours, Zayn either decided to ignore Louis entirely, or he actually was occupied. The bastard probably saw Louis' name flash on his phone and demolished it with a hammer so he could get some peace and quiet. Louis wouldn't put it past him. 

It's only six thirteen and Louis knows these are about to be the most arduous hours ever. 

He turns on Grey's Anatomy and decides to finish off the pity party with a bang. 

x

The 'marimba' tone jolts Louis awake, his whereabouts a complete mystery to him. His eyes register a cracked door with a bit of light flooding in and he realizes he's in his own fucking bed. He paws around the bed for his phone and when he finds it he accepts the call.

"Yeah." He mumbles groggily. Someone cackles on the other end. 

"I'm standing outside your door." Harry says, sounding a bit concerned. "Are you just waking up?"

"Fuck." Louis scoffs, throwing back his comforter. He's got a random hard-on and no boxers and Harry is at his door and he can't find a shirt and Jesus he needs to get his ducks in a row. "Coming." After practically flying down the stairs, Louis reaches the door and unlocks it, revealing Harry on the other side. Harry gives him a once over and smirks. 

"I would make a 'happy to see me' joke, but you genuinely are happy to see me?" He says, not even trying to be subtle with his gaze. 

"Oh, piss off." Louis ushers Harry inside and shuts the door behind himself. Harry's appearance registers in Louis' brain and, oh. Fuck his choice of joggers and unruly hair. Harry is clad in the skinniest pair of jeans Louis has ever seen. His oversized white shirt is peeking out from underneath his peacoat and he's swapped out his boots with white, low-rise Converse. Oh. 

"You look a little unprepared." Harry points out, hopping up to sit on the island. "Go get dressed and do it quickly. Time is sparse here." 

"To clarify," Louis states, pointing his finger at his cock, "This situation is not because of you." Harry raises his eyebrows. 

"Whatever makes you feel better, Lou. I mean, a blow job would take care of that, but then we won't have time to carry out our plans. You're just going to have to suffer." He grins, knowing that Louis wants to kick him in the throat. 

"I'm going to change." Louis grumbles, pouting his way to his room. 

Five minutes later he comes back downstairs in black skinnies, black Vans, and a grey Adidas hoodie, fixing his hair by putting a black Vans hat on top of it. 

Harry's on his phone and doesn't acknowledge Louis until he clears his throat. 

"I believe my carriage awaits outside." He says in a pompous manner. Harry looks up and grins, putting his phone in his back pocket. 

"You look adorable." Harry's dimple appears and Louis prays that Harry's plans involve tequila. 

"I know, I know. Now let's go before the clock strikes midnight. Don't want me turning into a rubbish bin or anything."

"Cinderlouis." Harry jokes, holding out his hand for Louis to take. The urge to grab it and never let go is battling with his actual self control because this is crossing the line. His hypothetical rules would be screaming at him if they could. 

"I think it's best if we're low-key tonight." Regretfully, Harry purses his lip and nods, dropping his hand. 

"Yeah."

The look of chagrin on Harry's face is enough to make Louis want to curl up in his sweatshirt and die. 

x

They end up downtown, not too far from Louis' house. 

"You put me in your chariot so we could see a building I look at almost every day." Louis' tone is acerbic and Harry pouts. 

"You don't even know what we're doing yet." 

"Fine. I trust you." Harry opens his door and Louis doesn't even reach the handle before his own door swings open, Harry giving him a cheesy smile. His hair is pushed up off his forehead, but his tiny hint of curls are just barely resting on his temples. The rings on his fingers make Louis' chest ache, not to mention he's still sporting a semi. 

"Now, if you'll please follow me." Harry is such a dork but it's so incredibly charming. 

Louis follows Harry into a ten to twelve story brick building that looks like it houses professional offices. How Harry knows about this building is beyond him, but he just goes with it. 

After what seems like an actual death sentence (stair-wise), the two of them reach a door. Harry gestures for Louis to go through first and his breath hitches when he sees where Harry's brought them. 

They're on the roof of the building, which actually has a mediocre but pretty terrace on it. "How did you even manage to get us up here?" Louis wonders out loud. Harry comes up behind him and rests his chin on his shoulder. 

"My step-dad works here. I snagged his key and thought I'd make a night out of it." The view is incredible. The air is frigid and Louis' nose is assuredly red from the chill, but Harry's warmth envelops him. 

"You're incredible." The words weren't supposed to be said, but Louis is so mesmerized by Harry's existence that he doesn't give a fuck about anything anymore. Operation No-Homo can cease to exist for one night, right? 

"The whole time I was with Niall and Nick, all I could think about was coming up here with you." He kisses the side of Louis' neck slowly and Louis literally fucking melts into him. "You're all boy," kiss, "and sarcasm," kiss, "and you're still turned on by whatever dream you were having earlier," kiss, "and all I want to do is touch you."

That feeling is something Louis has become very familiar with these past couple months. The pull to just reach out and touch Harry is as strong as ever, and it's nothing but extraordinary when he feels Harry on his fingertips. 

"Did you even want to be with the lads?" Louis asks while Harry hooks one finger in his belt loop. 

"I'd rather have been in bed with you." He jerks Louis' hips even further into his crotch and puts his other hand on Louis' waist. "All Niall and Nick do is talk about football. They don't look like you, either." Louis turns himself around so his face is centimeters from Harry's. 

"Trying to find someone as attractive as you is impossible." He whispers.

Fireworks go off in the background and it dawns on Louis that, one, something other than the two of them exists, and two, it's midnight. 

Harry closes the gap between them and fireworks are going off inside of Louis, the real fireworks being drowned out by the amount of affection and lust he has toward the boy he's locking lips with. 

Ringing in the new year while kissing Harry on a rooftop terrace is an event Louis never mentally constructed, not even in his most ambitious daydreams. Because Harry is a teenager. His adult life has barely begun and Louis is one notch in Harry's belt. For now, though, Louis is going to pretend that he's all Harry wants and needs. 

While Louis knows that Harry is dying to throw him down on the bed and just fucking take him, the way Harry kisses him says otherwise. He's taking his time, slowly but surely tasting all of Louis that he can manage, fingers digging into Louis' waist. Louis has his hands flat against Harry's chest and he can feel his heart racing beneath his shirt. 

He pulls away when 'I love you' crosses his mind. 

"Happy New Year, Harry." Is what he settles on instead. 

"Happy New Year, Louis." He responds. 

Louis opens his mouth to say something, but his body acts faster than his mind. Telling Harry endearing and romantic things isn't something that can be done without consequences. Why does he keep having to tell himself no? It shouldn't be that hard to remember. 

"Any resolutions?" Harry asks, throwing off Louis' train of thought. 

Without any hesitation he states, "visit my mum more often". It's honest and necessary. Visiting at least bi-weekly should suffice. He doesn't want to be the child who moves out then pops in every other day for a chat over tea. He has his own life, but his life at home should still be part of his current one. "What about you?"

Harry is silent for a few seconds, his brow furrowed. "Get my shit together."

"That's obvious." Louis snorts, rolling his eyes. "Not good enough."

"Is it socially acceptable to mock someone's resolution?" 

"Only if they're your best mate and they set vague goals for themselves." 

Harry makes a face of contemplative agreement and shrugs. "Okay, then, uh, stop running away from the scary bits in life. Not the ghost and monster type shit, but, like, emotional and adult things." 

"I'll accept that." Louis nods. 

"So, if I'm going to actually go through with that, I should probably start on it fairly quickly." Not knowing where this is headed, Louis decides it's best to keep his guard up. It could either end very poorly or very well. 

"How are you going to do that?" 

"Well." He leans in, smirking. "I believe I have an inkling." He presses his lips against Louis' again and cradles Louis' jaw in the palm of his right hand. Louis' arms are limp at his sides and he feels useless and dumbfounded. Harry steps back and Louis regains control of his appendages. "Step one: show you how much I like you." 

Louis just stares at him. The amount that he cares for Harry is weighing down heavily on him, but knowing that he wormed his way into part of Harry's resolution lifted an ounce or two from his shoulders. 

"Why do you always just stare at me?"

"Look at you." Louis says in awe. There's nothing he wants more right now than to feel the word 'boyfriend' roll off of his tongue. Harry is his, whether he likes it or not.

"Look at you." Harry retorts, gesturing back at Louis. "Your arse alone could get me off in five minutes."

"Now that's just pathetic." 

"You and I both know it's true, though." Louis has to smile at that. His bum is pretty great. 

"Harry." Louis says seriously, jamming his hands in his hoodie pocket. "Since I have you trapped in the cold on this lovely terrace that you dragged me to, I need to know." He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly. "What's happening here." 

Harry looks confused, but what Louis is insinuating must click after a few seconds because Harry's mouth forms an 'o'. He bites his lip and just stares back at Louis. "What do you think is happening here?" 

Not fair.

"I asked you first. There isn't a wrong answer." 

"What if I say something you don't want to hear and I fuck everything up?" Harry says, expressing his concern in a way that only he could make adorable. 

"Harry. This past week I vowed to become emotionally unattached to you. I've tried to do this before but it just doesn't work. I last five or six days then I find myself right back where I started. With you."

"Lou-" Harry begins but Louis cuts him off. 

"I'm not finished. If I don't say this now I never will, and I really wish I had some tequila, but, Harry. You can't look me in the eye and tell me that you don't feel this," he motions between the two of them, "pulling us together. Fuck, every time I look at you it's like my body is screaming to be near you, to touch you. It's terrifying because I don't get like this. Ever. You drive me so fucking crazy and I don't know how to make it stop. My days begin and end with you. It's just you." He takes a deep breath and watches Harry's face, trying to detect any traces of fear or disgust. All he finds is surprise and what he hopes is happiness. 

"Louis Tomlinson." Harry says slowly, taking a step forward. He licks his bottom lip and looks down at him with his hair drooping slightly. Louis can already tell he's made a grave mistake. "The fact that you planned to avoid me is the most selfish thing I have ever heard." Shit. "How did you expect me to function properly without you?" 

"You could find someone else to shag." He suggests quietly. 

"Jesus, you think I'm the oblivious one? Remember that party you threw after you won the cup? Why do you think I even came to that? Because you're fit? Why do you think I drop everything I'm doing to see you? Why do you think we have a cat together? Louis, I'm not doing whatever this is just to fuck around and get my dick wet. I'm sorry that I ever made you feel like that's what's happening."

"Why didn't you say something?" 

"It was never brought up. I figured that since you're a famous footballer you were keeping me around for good company and eventually a good fuck." Harry looks at the ground with his hands behind his back, shaking his head. "You're such a fucking tease. You wanted something this whole time." 

"The second I bumped into you I thought I was going to jail because I had just found the most beautiful boy alive and then I realized you were the laundry boy, who is rarely of age." Louis confesses, a smile on his face. Harry's head shoots up and he's laughing and it's so beautiful and pure and Louis just kisses him as Harry laughs against his lips. If he could stay in this moment, this cocoon he and Harry are bundled in that's nothing but happiness and lust, he would forever. 

"So, someone like you genuinely likes me for more than my cock." Harry says to himself. 

"What do you mean someone like me?" Louis says in protest, crossing his arms. 

"An athletic millionaire who loves his mum and watches reruns of shitty tv shows all day." He laughs. "Kind of a rare breed if I'm not mistaken."

"You're right. Zayn's a dick of a millionaire." Louis jokes. He knows he's looking at Harry like a lovestruck teenager, but he can't help it, not to save his life. 

"Spends all of his money on overpriced and overrated pillows. Does anyone even like them? Does he get compliments on them? What's the point." 

"Complaints. He does it for complaints. Fucking masochist." Harry must notice his body shivering because he unbuttons his peacoat and embraces Louis, both of them somehow comfortably fitting under one coat. 

"A masochist because of a pillow obsession? Seems a bit dramatic." Harry points out, resting his chin on the top of Louis' head. Louis' notices Harry standing on his tiptoes and he suddenly feels a lot warmer. 

"It's like you don't even know me. Everything I say is either a hyperbole or considered socially unacceptable." Harry's neck is truthfully the place he wants to be when he dies. 

"How did your mum not leave you on the curb. I would've pulled my hair out long before you moved out of my house." Harry says into Louis' hair. Louis can feel him smiling into it. 

"You would've loved me and you know it. Don't even try to play cool here." He chuckles. Everything is so calm and right in this moment and that's something Louis just can't get over. The universe has never had everything align this perfectly and he dreads the minute it ends. If only there was some way to trap it and hook it up to an IV drip or something so he can feel it whenever he wants to. 

"You're right." They leave it at that as they stand above the city, wrapped up in one another, keeping each other warm by simply existing. It's new and thrilling and so fucking terrifying, but Louis knows he can't fight the urge to dive headfirst into Harry. If fate is real, then this is it, Louis thinks.

x

The point of continuing practice throughout the off-season is so the players don't become lazy and obese, but Louis resents everything associated with Man U during this period. It's the second week of January and Zayn's birthday is in three days, yet Louis has failed to even purchase a card for him. 

Zayn's birthday bashes are usually talked about for weeks following the event and Louis can't stomach the idea of neglecting his best friend's birthday, especially when it might as well be considered a national holiday. If fans think Louis is a diva, they've clearly never paid attention to Zayn in his free time. 

Louis also failed to mention New Year's Eve to Zayn, which he figures has passed its moment of relevance. The longer he waits to tell him, the more pissed off Zayn will be about him delaying the news. As for now, ignorance is bliss. 

The team is running ladders and Louis would rather die than finish this practice. When he reaches his third-to-last set, he sees Harry sitting on the edge of the field, not even trying to be discreet about watching him. Louis makes eye contact and Harry winks at him. He smiles back but it is wiped off his face almost immediately as he plows into the person in front of him, both of them toppling to the ground. 

"You fucking twat." Zayn swears, pinned under the weight of Louis. Thank God it's only Zayn. The fact that he didn't even know who was in front of him because he was too focused on Harry is pathetic. "If I'm injured, you're paying for everything." 

"You're not hurt, shut up." He snaps back, rolling off of his chest. Zayn sits up and just glares at Louis, readjusting himself in his pants. His eyes shift back to Harry who is laughing so hard he's doubled over. Zayn follows his gaze and groans. 

"Listen, I know you're in love with him and everything, but that doesn't mean you can jeopardize my career." He says, standing up. 

"Piss off." Louis grumbles, refocusing on the task at hand. Just as Zayn starts running again, Louis hears David Soutar take a jab at him. 

"So, The Sun has officially outed your faggot-ass too? Happy New Year." He snickers, speeding up and leaving Zayn frozen. Ben is going to rip Zayn and him a new one for the lack of practicing happening, but friendship comes before brutal punishment. 

"Zayn, ignore him." Louis puts his hand on Zayn's shoulder and Zayn shrugs it off almost immediately. "He's a lonely prick."

"They were at the park." He says, eyes closed. "We kissed when the fireworks went off. They were there." Although most of the team figured out Zayn's status at Louis' Cup party, there were still a handful who were in the dark, including Ben. "Fucking stupid." He swears angrily. Louis knows that when Zayn gets angry, he's livid. There's never a stage of slight anger, it's always just zero to one hundred in an instant. 

"Zayn, Soutar is a dick. When I came out I thought-" Zayn punches him in the cheek. 

He opens his eyes and Zayn is out of sight, everyone else stopped dead in their tracks staring at Louis as he cradles his cheekbone. Fucking Zayn could've damaged one of his finer qualities. 

Ben blows his whistle and jogs over to Louis, everyone else continuing to stare. Harry is standing up, his right hand in his hair. 

"What the fuck was that, Tomlinson?" Ben grits, clearly angrier than Zayn, even. The thing is, Louis isn't even pissed off. He knows the frustration of having his personal life exploited. The feeling that everyone is watching his every move. While he doesn't exactly appreciate being socked in the face, he knows Zayn wasn't thinking. 

"I need to go to the locker room." He says, not giving anything away. 

"Jesus, this is a team of men. I don't coach cheerleading for a reason. This fucking drama has got to end." Ben spits. He can end Louis' contract at this point. Zayn needs Louis in that locker room now. 

"I'm- I should probably go ice this." He stumbles over his words as he watches Harry duck into the hall leading to where Zayn is most definitely brooding. 

"Zayn was caught. Great. I just didn't know it was you he was with. I thought they were all over you and the laundry kid." Ben scoffs. His teammates are huddled across the field from him and there's no question they're gossiping about Zayn and Louis. Seems to be a common trend these days. Louis doesn't have time to fully react to Ben's remark about Harry and him.

"His name is Harry and if you want to tell yourself Zayn and I are together, whatever. I'm going to take care of this." He brushes past Ben, not caring how many suicides he'll have to run for this. His face is throbbing and Zayn is going to become even more of a hermit and the world knows that he's Liamsexual. Today could have gone better. Fucking David Soutar. 

Louis reaches the locker room and finds Harry leaning against Louis' locker, just watching Zayn. He's sitting on the bench with his head in his hands. 

"Zayn, mate." Louis says sadly, making his way over to his best friend. Zayn's head pops up, red eyes and a bottom lip that's already been bitten raw. 

"Your face." Zayn's voice cracks and his eyes somehow manage to look even sadder. 

"Fuck that. You're livid. I'm just glad you took it out on me and not one of the other lads. Imagine what a mess that would be." He jokes, failing to lighten the mood. He glances in the mirror ahead of him and cringes at the red puffiness creeping toward his eye. 

"Tommo, I'm genuinely sorry about that. I don't know why I hit you." 

"Mate, it's completely okay. Promise. I just need to know if you are." He says softly, sitting down next to Zayn's sullen body. 

Zayn leans his head back and stares at the ceiling, his mouth opening slightly as he exhales. "I always knew there would be a time when we were caught. I mean, fuck, we don't even try to hide it anymore. It's like we just forget that the world around us exists too. I just didn't realize we'd be caught this early. Kind of caught me off guard." 

"Maybe it's better this way." Harry quietly suggests. "Now you two can actively love each other in the grocery and the bar and whenever you go on dates. They won't just be mate-dates, but actual, like, fiancé dates."

"Yeah." Zayn says without emotion, seemingly in a daze. "I'm already a private person. This is too much for everyone to know." 

Louis wants to say something that will make Zayn feel better, but he doesn't know what to tell him. He's well-educated in footy, English, music, and sex, but when it comes to helping people with situations this monumental, he's clueless. There should be a course in secondary school that covers this. The Basics of Being a Good Friend: How to Give Advice to Your Mate Who's Just Been Outed to the World. 

"Louis, you need to ice that before it turns into a grapefruit." Changing the subject, Zayn looks to Harry for help. "Go fix him up. I'll be okay." Harry nods and motions toward the room where ice baths are held. 

Louis takes one last look at Zayn for assurance and pats him on the back before following Harry. 

"I don't know what the fuck I'd do if someone just outed me to the world like that." Harry says after the door shuts behind them. He opens a drawer and pulls out a plastic bag before scooping ice into it from the freezer. Louis is still staring when he turns around. 

"It's fucking terrifying." Louis half-laughs, sitting down on the cushioned bench in front of him. "It's bad enough when someone under the spotlight has a partner, but when they're gay, it's like they're the only story worthy of the tabloids." The chill of ice settles on his face and he watches Harry's chest rise and fall as he breathes, holding the bag steadily and softly on Louis' cheek. "What would you do if this were you?" 

Harry takes a few moments to respond. 

"Wouldn't leave the house for a couple days, honestly. I'd be afraid to even go to the market. There's no doubt he'll be ambushed by paps." Louis has flashbacks to the time he and Zayn left the car park shortly after he'd come out. Zayn had been the calm in the storm to the best of his ability and now that it's passed, Louis knows he couldn't have done it without him. That week was one of the scariest of his life. 

"When I came out, a couple days after, there were still paps surrounding my building." Louis says. "Zayn let me sleep at his place until everything died down. He's the only reason I made it through that first week alive." Harry sets the ice on the bench next to him and crouches down so his eyes are level to Louis'. 

"This is going to get pretty gnarly." His brushes his thumb over Louis' throbbing cheek and grins. "Who knew Zayn was a puncher. I figured he was a pacifist." 

"Ha ha." Louis says flatly, guiding Harry's hand away from his face. "He just got pissed. I'm not usually his punching bag, but I can understand why this news sent him into a blind rage." 

"You know, when he hit you I about had a conniption. You're making me turn into one of those overprotective boyfriends." Harry realizes what he says the second it rolls out of his mouth and Louis can't help but smile at him. "I mean, like-"

"Boyfriend. Hm." It hurts to smile as big as he is, but the joy from the slip Harry made cancels it out. 

"Freudian slip." 

"Mhm, yeah." Louis rolls his eyes. "Does this make it Facebook official." 

"This setting isn't exactly how I'd pictured this moment." Harry laughs. He's still crouched on the floor and Louis pushes his shoulder, causing his clumsy arse to tumble backwards. He catches himself with his hands and glares back at Louis. "You little prick."

Louis can't help himself from climbing on top of Harry, straddling his hips. "How did you picture it." He picks at the hem of Harry's shirt and Harry lies his head back onto the tiled floor. 

"You're naked in bed with me, most likely sleepy and sporting a bit of cum on your stomach. It's dawn and we've been fucking all night, not realizing how much time we'd spent on top of each other. I ask you and you just smile and nod and call me an idiot for waiting so long." Louis looks down at the boy underneath him and is painfully aware that he's never felt so important so someone. 

"How did you know I wouldn't be the one to pop the question?" He pouts, tracing a heart onto Harry's abs. 

"Please." He scoffs. "You're you. You haven't even given me an answer yet."

"I figured it was abundantly obvious that I want to be your boyfriend." Harry looks up at him and grins. "I mean, we do share a cat." 

"You're right." He props himself up on his elbows. "I can't believe you're skipping practice so you can straddle me in the ice room. Kinky." He softly kisses Louis on the mouth and smiles. "When you have the lads over tonight, which I know you are, don't even protest, I'm going to make you scream into your sheets." Louis feels heat rush to his cock.

"Who said you were invited?" He jokes. 

"I'm always invited. It's the unspoken rule of your flat." Louis swats at his chest and laughs, not denying a single word. "Plus, now it's emphasized. I'm your boyfriend." 

"I could get used to hearing that." Louis hums, admiring the way Harry's polo shirt is too baggy around the middle but somehow still looks flawless.

"Jesus." Harry says a bit too seriously for Louis' liking. 

"What?" 

"I'm dating Man U's star player." 

Louis cackles. "Better invest in a stylist. Your fashion sense will be critiqued by millions." 

"I have a better wardrobe than you." Harry pouts.

"Don't remind me."

Ben's lecture is already forming in the back of Louis' mind, and he knows he should get up and go back out onto the pitch, but he can't seem to tear himself away from Harry. Harry - his boyfriend, best mate, and co-parent to a cat. Every time he looks at Harry his body screams that he's the one. Louis just tries to ignore it.


	10. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, I've had this story planned since about 2015, and I was hesitant to leave this part in. While I changed the illness to her actual one, the situation is from the original storyline and it was hard to write about something that has happened in real life. I've been in this fandom since 2012 and the passing of Louis' mom was devastating. All of my love will always be sent to his family. Just remember that this is fiction and I do, in fact, separate it from reality. Thank you for waiting so long for an update. Lots of love.

Liam and Zayn are curled up on Louis' leather couch and Louis feels the need to poke them every once in a while to make sure they're still living. They are every time he checks.

It's been a week since Zayn and Liam were outed to the world, and they have yet to return to their own home in the northern part of town. Zayn was even too shaken up to go through with any plans made for his birthday. He spent the day drinking tequila in Louis' living room. Louis technically isn't complaining, considering he has a guest room, but it is cutting into his and Harry's schedule. 

That schedule includes sex, Grey's Anatomy marathons, and more sex. 

Ever since he and Harry made it official, they haven't been able to peel themselves apart. He knows Zayn is annoyed with it. Liam probably is too, but he's just too grateful for a place to stay away from the paps to mention it. As always, Niall is pulling the indifferent card. Honestly though, it's not much different than any other day. His house is starting to feeling like it permanently occupies five, not just one. 

Harry is lying on the floor playing finger wiggle with Lilac and Louis is sitting in his new swing chair. He and Harry bickered for about fifteen minutes in the middle of an IKEA over whether or not Louis should purchase it, and naturally he succumbed to Harry's wishes. It's a damn good thing he makes enough money to spoil Harry and about twelve other Harries. 

"I would actually rather be roasted alive than go to practice." Niall groans. "It's so damn far away. Everything is so far away, so remind me why I'm always with you guys." 

"Because your team and its players are shit." Louis jokes, earning a glare from Niall. "Sorry. I'm still rubbing that win in your face, mate. I deserve it." 

"Fair enough." Niall gets up from the armchair he was sitting in and toes his green trainers on. "Name one day worse than Tuesdays." 

"Wednesdays." Louis, Harry, and Zayn, who is apparently conscious, say in unison. Louis is dreading tomorrow's practice, knowing that Ben purposely saved his punishment for the worst possible day of the week. Ben knows how to make things exponentially worse. He was eerily quiet toward Louis and Zayn on Saturday and Monday, so either he's genuinely forgiving the two, or he's brewing up a nightmare from Hell for tomorrow. Both situations are terrifying in their own respect. 

"Tuesdays are our Wednesdays." Niall claims, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "Eight o'clock practices are a joke. At least yours are at a reasonable time." 

"Not so fast, Horan. I have to get up before noon for our practices." Louis complains, pointing his finger at his mate. "Although, you can't go out on Saturday nights." Pause. "Yeah, you win this round." Niall does a tiny cheer but keeps his face disinterested. 

"Goodbye, love of my life." Harry says wistfully as Niall walks toward the door. 

"Goodbye." The Louis and Zayn say to Niall shortly after. 

"Harry, I'd watch your mouth if I were you. I cannot be mutilated by Louis any time soon." Niall jokes. 

"I was mutilated by Louis last night." Harry mumbles but the boys hear it and groan, leaving Louis beaming. "Sorry. You made that one too easy." 

"I'm getting the hell out of here." Niall swears, shutting the door. Before it clicks shut, Louis is certain he hears him grumble something about needing new friends. 

"He was in a good mood." Zayn snorts into the sofa cushion. His face seems stuck in that position, mostly because Liam's arm is shoving it down while he snoozes away. 

"When was the last time you were in a remotely decent mood, Zayn." Louis scoffs. His eye and the area surrounding it have resided to the final stage of bruising, so it almost looks like he has jaundice. Zayn has only apologized a million times, and the fact that they've gotten this far in a conversation without an apology has got to be a new record. Really, he's not sure if Zayn is suffocating or not under that meaty log Liam calls an arm. Only time will tell. 

"I don't think I've ever witnessed Zayn in any mood higher than content." Harry adds. "I've known you for almost four months, mate. That's a bit sad." Louis stops thinking about Zayn's sorrows and dwells on the fact that he's not even known Harry for four months yet, but it feels like he's lived a thousand lifetimes with him. Three and a half months into knowing Harry Styles and he's in so deeply that he would choose Harry over and over again. It's shitty to admit to himself, but most of the time he chooses Harry over Zayn, who's his best friend. 

He's shaken from his thoughts by his phone ringing on his thigh. When he looks at the screen, he sees that it's Lottie. Huh. 

"I'm going to take this." He says to the boys, knowing that Zayn doesn't give a fuck, Liam is dead asleep, and Harry would've just followed him with his eyes anyway. 

He sits down on the island stool and answers the call. 

"Hey, Lots! What's up?" He chimes, sincerely glad that she's chosen to have an audible conservation with him. He hasn't seen his family since Christmas and he knows he needs to stick to his resolution, but he hasn't gotten around to actually planning a trip. He was going to do so after his hell practice was finished, but now it seems that his time has been cut short. 

"Louis." Her voice is not as cheerful as he was expecting and suddenly his body is telling him that something is very, very wrong. 

"What's going on?" He says lowly, praying to whatever gods are up there that Zayn and Harry aren't eavesdropping. He couldn't get that lucky.

"It's mum." Her voice is changing pitch mid-sentence and that's the telltale sign that she's crying. Louis picks up on these things over the years. 

Mind completely blank, he stands up and looks around for a pair of shoes, which, Jesus Christ where are the fucking shoes in this flat when he needs them. Harry's stare is burning a hole through him, but now is not a time when he can choose Harry. 

"What's wrong?" It would be slightly less stressful if Lottie would stop fucking around and just give him some fucking information. 

"She's been admitted to the hospital. She fainted at dinner and she just. I've noticed that she can't take care of the girls like she could a couple months ago. She's weak and we didn't know what was wrong. She just told me tonight that she's been sick but didn't want the younger ones to know." Louis' heart is in his throat at this point because his mum is the staple their family needs to be strong. His mum is sick and he needs to be the adult. 

Jacket and shoes on, Louis grabs his keys and walks out the front door, not wasting time giving the lads any information. A text once he gets to Donny should suffice. Now is one of those times that he wishes he lived closer to his family. 

"I'm leaving my flat now. I-I'll have to tell Ben there's a family emergency and I think Zayn will know to just use his spare key and let Harry out and, fuck, tomorrow is supposed to be my hell practice and Ben's going to make Saturday even worse for me and-" Louis doesn't know when he started crying, but he is. Hot tears are streaming down his cheeks and the fucking lift won't open quickly enough. 

"Louis." Harry's voice echoes down the empty, carpeted hallway and Louis cannot for the life of him look up and let Harry see him like this. Louis Tomlinson does not cry. Ever. 

Harry's presence is evident without Louis even opening his eyes. Lottie is saying something to a nurse on the end of the line and this is just too fucking much for Louis to take in right now. 

"Louis, let me come with you." Harry says softly. God bless Harry and his willingness to be by Louis' side even when he doesn't know what's happening or what he's getting into. 

"You don't even know where I'm going." He says as calmly as he can, stepping into the elevator and making sure to keep his head down. Harry's massive hand holds the door back as he steps in with Louis, standing in front of him. The boy isn't even wearing a coat, yet here he is asking to trek into the freezing January air with Louis for a reason that's unknown to him. 

The door slides shut and Harry takes a step closer to Louis. His finger and thumb push back Louis' fallen fringe and Harry's brow furrows when he takes a look at his reddening face. 

"Louis." He sounds slightly heartbroken and, really, it's not helping the situation. Louis' cell service goes out when the elevator starts descending and his call with Lottie, which he forgot was still happening, is cut off. 

"My mum." Harry doesn't need any further explanation before wrapping his monster arms around Louis' body, which is closing in on itself. When things go wrong, he curls into himself as deeply as possible. It's a defense mechanism that he's performed for as long as he can remember. Obviously it doesn't accomplish much, but it's still slightly comforting. 

Louis breaks down into Harry's shoulder, wetting his jumper almost instantly. A 'ding' signals the opening doors and Harry removes himself from Louis, evidently remembering that the public eye is now an issue as well. 

Miraculously, Louis makes it to his Rover without a single person recognizing him, Harry in tow. 

"We're going to Doncaster." He states, turning off the radio so there's complete silence filling the car. Harry nods and leans his head back, turning it so he can get a good look at Louis. 

"Your mum," Harry begins, "is she..."

Louis knows Harry is finding the right words to ask if his mum has died.

"She's in the hospital. She collapsed. Lottie says she's been weak these past few weeks." He tries to focus on pulling onto the main road but nearly pulls into an SUV when he realizes that his mum had seemed a bit off on Christmas. She had looked at him with sad eyes and tried to tell him something, but was interrupted and, well, that was the end of that. Louis hates himself for not noticing that something was wrong, hates himself for not realizing she was sick, hates himself for not visiting enough. It's petty and stupid, but a part of him feels like if he had visited more these past few months, he could have recognized her symptoms and done something to be proactive. But, instead, here he is driving to Doncaster only because his mum is hospitalized. He takes the cake for worst son ever. 

"Do they know what's wrong?" 

"On Christmas she was going to tell me something heavy. She has known she's sick for a while, just didn't bother telling any of her children." He feels nauseous. It's only been minutes since Lottie's called, but to Louis it feels like hours. 

"Why would she keep that from you, though?" Part of Louis wants to throw Harry through the windshield. 

"She's my mum. She has five kids. Dan has two of his own, and she and him aren't even married. If you knew her you'd get it. She didn't want us to worry." Jay always did things in her kids' best interest, but sometimes she would think about them too much. While she thought she was protecting her children, she was actually just letting herself get worse without anyone there to help her.

"She felt like she was protecting you by hiding an illness?" Harry asks in a way that only he could make sound kind. 

"Yeah. Fat lot that did her." He tries to make a joke but Harry doesn't fall for it. Harry knows him better than anyone. Louis is crumbling away. 

Harry refrains from asking any more questions, instead taking Louis' hand in his own. They stay like that the entire drive to Doncaster.

~

It takes every muscle Louis has in him to step into his mum's hospital room, but he knows he's not alone in this when Harry is at his side. They're clutching hands and Harry gives Louis a kiss on the forehead before they enter the room, unveiling Jay looking absolutely broken in her bed. Phoebe and Daisy are asleep in one of the chairs while Lottie and Fizzy stare into space next to their mum. 

"Hey." Louis says quietly, not wanting to wake his mother up. Lottie and Fizzy look up at the two of them, their eyes going from Harry's face, to Louis', to their intertwined fingers. "Ask questions later." He says, rolling his eyes. "Right now I need to know how mum is. Where's Dan?"

"Dan's at the cafeteria getting the twins snacks." Fizzy says, sitting up a bit straighter. "The doctor says that..." She closes her mouth and makes a pained face. When she starts crying, Harry gives Louis' hand a squeeze before breaking apart and going over to his weeping sister, enveloping her in a hug. Louis looks to Lottie, who is also tearing up.

"Leukemia." She says blankly. Her lips purse and she looks back at Jay. "Stage three." Sobs wrack her body and Louis doesn't know what to do other than stand there at the foot of the bed, emotionless. He feels helpless and alone and like he's eight years old again, starting out at a new school and forced to fend for himself. 

Harry stands up and looks back at Louis nodding toward the hallway. Louis just stares back at him. Everything seems to be moving in slow motion and sounds seem muffled, like they're coming from miles away. The only thing that isn't hazy is his mother sleeping in front of him. She's even thinner now than she was at Christmas and Louis is frightened by how different she looks from the woman he's known his whole life.

He blinks and Harry is no longer in the room. 

He blinks again and all he can see is wires and tubes surrounding the woman who raised him and cheered him on, even when he was in the wrong. 

"Louis?" A small voice comes from across the bed and he finds Daisy yawning and looking at him, confused. "Why are you here?" His heart breaks when he realizes that the twins don't understand the severity of the situation. 

"I wanted to see mummy." He musters up a smile and walks over to where she's sitting, crouching down and being careful not to wake Phoebe. Lottie and Fizzy watch as he hides his fear by comforting his younger sister. 

"She fainted when we were eating. Lottie had to make sure she was breathing." Daisy's eyes are terrified and Louis feels another round of tears coming on. Just thinking about Lottie having to handle everything in that moment makes the feeling of guilt inside of him stronger. He should've been there and been the adult. Lottie isn't even eighteen. Imagining her trying to calm down the twins, keep an eye on their mum, and call for help is too much for him to process. She's his little sister. He should have been there. 

"She's breathing just fine, Daise, I promise. See that little machine with the squiggly lines?" Daisy nods. "That's keeping track of her heartbeat. Right now it's beating as well as it ever has."

"She's going to be okay?" Lottie glances at Louis and just barely shakes her head, signaling that they're holding off on the heavy stuff until things deteriorate.

"She's going to be okay." Louis smiles, tucking Daisy's bangs behind her ear. 

"Good. Phoebe and I are writing a play and mummy has to be there to watch it. We're doing it in the living room and even Lottie and Fizzy are going to watch." Louis laughs and wonders when the two youngest girls grew up. 

"Well, maybe I'll just have to be there too." He suggests. "I'll even bring Harry. I'm sure he'd love to watch it. He doesn't have any younger siblings, so he doesn't get to do things like that very often." 

"Who's Harry?" Daisy asks innocently. A smile creeps onto his face because, this is it. Harry is officially meeting his family, and while it's not the way he'd pictured it, it's still thrilling and a huge step. When does anything ever go according to plan anyway?

"My boyfriend." He turns around and sees curls peeking out in the doorway. He must be sitting on the hall floor waiting for Louis to invite him back inside the room. "He's out in the hall. Want to meet him?" Daisy nods excitedly and Lottie and Fizzy stand up as well, evidently not missing out on their chance to formally meet the one and only Harry Styles. 

Louis stands up and motions for the girls to follow, leading them out to where Harry is sitting. Harry looks up at all of them before eagerly standing up and sticking his hand out to Lottie. 

"Harry." He says seriously, shaking Lottie's hand. She starts laughing and so does Louis. 

"She knows, love." Louis says fondly. "I do fancy you enough to tell my family about you." 

"Figured a formal introduction was the way to go, love." He emphasizes love and beams, shaking Fizzy's hand as well. "Who's this toothless wonder?" Harry smiles at Daisy's lack of front teeth and she smiles back. 

"Daisy." She says shyly, holding her hands behind her back. 

"Daisy. Well, you must be one of the twins." Harry looks in at Phoebe's sleeping body and nods. "Does she have all of her teeth? Or are you the special one?" Daisy giggles in response. 

"She's only lost one of her top teeth. I'm beating her." 

"Hope you're not physically beating her for that to happen." Louis adds, making the group laugh. 

"No way!" Daisy defends herself, giving Louis a fake-pouty look. 

"Well, from now on I'm going to be keeping track of who's lost more teeth. This is important stuff." Harry crosses his arms and smiles. 

"I'm going to win!" Daisy sings. 

Harry just chuckles. "I'm sure you are." Louis looks between the two of them fondly and curses the universe for planting such a kind-hearted boy in front of him. He doesn't deserve Harry, who followed him to Donny, needing no reason to drop everything and be there for his boyfriend. 

"I'm going to go find Dan." Louis tells his sisters. Harry must just know that Louis wants him to follow, because he takes a step closer to him and lets his fingertips brush his wrist. 

"Let him know that mum is still sleeping." Lottie says before ducking back into the room, Fizzy and Daisy in tow. The girls honestly just need sleep and Louis wants to tell them he'll take over, but he knows that it won't make a difference. How could they not be worried sick?

He and Harry make their way to the lift before Harry says anything.

"I'm sorry I had to meet your mum like this." He says quietly, looking despondent. Louis swallows thickly. 

"I'm sorry, too."

They're silent after that. 

When they reach the cafeteria, Louis scans the room for Dan, whom he's only met once. Going off of vague memory, he thinks he sees him sat at a table with two small, strawberry-blonde kids. Once he reaches the table, his assumptions are made clear. 

"Dan, mate." Louis says, not sure what to do with his hands. Dan looks up from his son's food, which he's trying to get into his mouth, and looks surprised to see Louis standing there. 

"Louis." He stands up and briefly looks at Harry before smothering Louis in a hug. "I'm so sorry." Louis isn't sure what he's apologizing for, but it soon dawns on him that even Dan must not have known about his mother. "I'm so, so sorry." 

"None of us caught it. Don't take the blame." Louis says, moving away from Dan and closer to Harry. 

"Take your own advice." Dan responds, evidently seeing right through Louis' calm facade. 

"Hard to do." He admits, looking at the floor. There's an awkward pause before Harry breaks the silence. 

"I'm Harry Styles." He sticks his hand out for Dan to take and grins. "It's a pleasure meeting you." 

Sometimes Louis wishes that Harry wasn't such a good person. He wishes that Harry would monumentally fuck something up, just so it would be his turn to take care of someone. It seems like he's always the one being fucked over and taken care of. 

"So you're who Lottie and Fizzy talk about. They seem to enjoy looking at your social media." Dan jokes. Harry blushes and gives Louis adorably wide eyes. "So, you two are..." His question trails off but Louis answers it anyway. 

"Together." Harry doesn't budge and it pains Louis to know that they've sort of trained themselves to the point where they refrain from giving any outsiders a clue as to what's going on between them. Obviously, there are times when they slip up, but Louis is certain that this is not one of those times. After all, Dan is dating his mother. He must know at least the bare minimum about Louis. 

"Right. I remember your statement you made to the press in October. I wasn't fully aware that there was a lad behind it." Harry raises his eyebrows and smirks, making Louis scowl back at him. 

"No, actually, it was just me behind it. Literally bumped into this one a week later." He laughs nervously. It's unclear why he's feeling wary of speaking about this with Dan. He chalks it up to the amount of people surrounding them. It's no secret that he's Donny's own, his face being a familiar one throughout the city. The cute, curly-haired laundry boy tagging alongside him surely isn't helping the rumours circulating about the two of them. Maybe they aren't as well-trained as they thought. 

"Fate." Harry simpers, reaching out to grasp Louis' bicep. Louis watches as Harry's eye catches something and his hand immediately falls short of his arm. After following Harry's gaze, Louis finds two men watching him from the food counter. 

"We should probably get back to the room." He says quickly. The last thing he needs right now is his relationship with Harry being outed. He'll deal with that another day. "Mum is still sleeping, as well as Phoebe. Be up soon?" 

"Yeah, just got to get Ernie to finish his chips. Pickiest eater on the planet." They look back at the blonder of the two children and Dan sighs. "Anyway, get back to your mum. She should be waking up soon. She'd love to see you." Louis nods and he and Harry say a quick goodbye before heading back to the lift. 

Once the doors close, Louis confronts Harry. "Maybe you shouldn't have come." Harry shifts slightly and cocks his head toward Louis. 

"Why?" 

"People are going to notice that I dragged my laundry boy to the hospital to see my sick mother. I wouldn't even drag Zayn here, and he's my best mate." Silence fills the lift, the only noise being the 'ding' of the seventh floor echoing through the space. Louis isn't sure if Harry is angry or paranoid. Maybe both. 

Part of him knows that he's taking out his frustrations on Harry. The stress of not knowing the future for his mum, if there is one, and how the paps will twist the story about his mum's illness is weighing down on him heavily. Harry is there and absorbs it like a sponge. Louis tries not to think about how it's affecting him, as shitty as that sounds. 

He steps into the hallway first, his heart skipping a beat when he sees a doctor and two nurses striding into his mum's room. His pace quickens and by the time he reaches the door, he's not even concerned with Harry's whereabouts. 

His heartbeat slows when he sees his mum awake and smiling, one of the nurses speaking happily with her. A hand rests on Louis' lower back and he knows it's Harry without even looking. 

"Louis." Jay's voice is soft but pleased, a smile gracing her face. 

"Mum." He leaves Harry's warmth and hurries to hers. They're different kinds of comfort. Harry's warmth is early mornings filled with sun-streaked faces, stolen and secret stares from across the pitch, vodka kisses, and home. His mum's is unconditional love, home-cooked breakfast, and an endless supply of support. 

She wraps her son in her arms, careful not to rip out anything she's got hooked up to herself. 

"How are you, darling?" She asks. Louis' eyes are wet but he's smiling. Oh God, is he smiling. "What's happened to your eye?"

"I'd be better if you weren't in a hospital bed. And it's a long story. I'm fine though." 

She gives him a closed smile, but her eyes have grown sad. "Okay." She glances over at Harry and waves him over. "This is him?" Louis turns his head and finds Harry already next to him, his hand resting on Jay's mattress. 

"Yeah. This is him." He knows that his mum knows Harry's face from numerous tabloids and the occasional pictures sent to Lottie, but she's never met him in person. Louis has to admit, Harry is much more striking in person than in any tabloid he's ever seen. God damn, he's lucky. 

"Harry Styles." Harry says, just like he'd introduced himself to Lottie and Fizzy. Louis watches as the doctor and nurses exit the room, assuredly just waiting outside of the room for the moment to pass. Doctor-patient confidentiality laws exist, but Louis still feels better knowing that no outsiders are watching Harry and his mum meet. 

"Oh, poppet, I know. You wouldn't believe how much this boy right here talks about you." Louis grimaces and looks at the ceiling while Harry grins next to him. "I didn't know you were coming here with Louis. I would have at least put on some makeup." Harry snorts and shakes his head. 

"Honestly, I'd be a bit concerned if you had put on makeup for me. We came to see you. We should be the ones wearing makeup." Louis elbows him in the ribs but Jay laughs. Harry is much too good with women for Louis' liking. 

"It's lovely to meet you. You really do make my boy happy. I can't even begin to thank you enough."

"Mum-" Louis groans, but Harry cuts him off. 

"I can't thank you enough for bringing such a wonderful person into the world. He's a great cat dad." Louis rolls his eyes and Harry winks at him. 

"I'd forgotten about Lilac! How is she?" Jay asks, genuinely intrigued. 

"She's great. A little stubborn, just like this one." Harry says, poking Louis' shoulder. Louis scowls.

"Our cat does not take after me, Harry. It's a cat."

"Don't talk about her like that." Harry sarcastically pouts. "She helps me get my schoolwork finished." Jay looks at him with surprise.

"You're still in school? For what?" Louis had failed to directly mention to his mum that Harry was a bit younger than him. 

"Um, well, once I'm out of sixth form, I'm going to University of Manchester for law." Harry says cautiously, evidently waiting for Jay's reaction when she realizes how young he is. Shock is inevitable, and Louis' mum proves that to be true. 

"Sixth form?" She looks at Louis then back at Harry. "You're-"

"I'm a bit old for my year. I'm almost nineteen." Harry says quickly, trying to slap a band-aid on the wound he's just opened. Jay's eyes soften a bit and she doesn't look as rigid. 

"I'm not a pervert, mum." Louis rolls his eyes. "I mean, when I first met him I thought I was, but I'm not going to go down that road." 

"Genuinely thought I was going to have to call the police on my own son. Wouldn't that be a way to go out." Johannah chuckles and it quickly turns into a coughing fit. Louis asks if she's okay a dozen times and each time she just waves him off. The girls don't seem too disturbed, so it must be a regular occurrence. 

"How many organs came out that time?" Fizzy says sarcastically, not looking up from her phone. Jay smiles weakly and looks over at her daughter. 

"Only three. Not going to have many left if this keeps up." The numbness that's taking over Louis' body is terrifying, but not nearly as scary as the sight in front of him. They can cover up the elephant in the room with jokes and love stories, but it's still lingering in the back of Louis' mind. It's like the cartoon dark cloud above his head. 

Why did his mum keep this from them.

"Guys." Louis says nicely. Everyone looks at him attentively, waiting for a followup. "Can I have a minute alone with mum?" They nod and head for the door, Harry included. Phoebe has woken up but is still drowsy, so Daisy leads her out of the room behind everyone else. 

"What's wrong, love?" Jay asks, holding onto Louis' forearm. Louis pulls up the chair that Lottie has been sitting in and takes a seat next to his mother. 

"Why didn't you tell anyone you were sick? If it was money, you know I would've paid for treatment." His voice is shaky and he really isn't confident that he can get through this conversation without crying. 

"It wasn't money. We're fine, Louis." 

Powering through the lump in his throat, Louis responds. "Then why the fuck would you just sit there and let yourself die?"

His mum looks like she's going to cry and if she does, Louis doesn't stand a chance. 

"If you had to choose between nine good months with no hair loss, no surgeries, no vomiting, none of the chemo side effects, and Lord knows how long with all of that plus being stuck in a hospital, which would you choose?" Silence falls between them and the only audible thing in the room is the low murmur or some machine his mum is hooked up to. "I want nine months of being me, Louis. I knew that if I told you, you'd push and push for me to get treatment. Darling, I love my children more than anything in this world. The love I have for you is indescribable. It's why I kept this from you in the first place. It sounds silly, but if my children aren't worrying about me, then they have more time for the fun and happy things that come with being young and healthy. The thought of any of you living less because of my illness made me sick to my stomach." Louis gapes at her, his ability to form words apparently leaving his mortal body. 

"My new diagnosis as of today gives me three more months if I don't pursue treatment." 

Louis' head falls in his hands and he shakes it for what seems like an eternity. He's just thinking and thinking and thinking, a million different thoughts racing through his mind at once. The most prominent one is 'what the fuck am I supposed to do without my mother'. 

"Mum." He says quietly. If he speaks any louder he knows his voice will betray him and give away every trace of sadness laced within him. "How... how am I supposed to give you a lifetime in three months?" Jay must have been expecting a lecture because she looks caught off guard. 

"Love, you've given me a lifetime and more. I love you more than what can be felt in a lifetime and that's a promise." Salty tears are on Louis' cheeks and creeping into his mouth while he watches his mum fall apart in front of him. This isn't how his life is supposed to be. His mum is supposed to just always be there. 

"What will happen with the girls?" 

"Dan is going to have custody of them." She swallows thickly. "He and I were going to get married one day. He's the one, Louis. There just isn't enough time." Louis is biting his lip raw and the thought of his sisters living with Dan makes him dizzy. This whole situation makes him want to throw up. 

"Mum, I can take them. They can live with me-"

"You're twenty-five and you're Manchester's star player. If you give up everything you've worked for because I'm gone, I will haunt you." She jokes through tears. "I know you love your sisters, but Dan loves them too. They'll be okay." 

Reaching for a box of tissues, Louis feels a tear fall onto his knee. He blows his nose and hands one to his mum, who graciously mimics him. 

"This is really selfish of you you know. Just up and dying on me. What am I supposed to do when you're gone?" Jay smiles at him and shakes her head slowly. 

"You're going to be fine, darling. I'm not going anywhere yet." That's not enough though, Louis thinks. Because eventually, his mum will be gone. Who will be in charge of holidays? Where will he go when things get ugly in Manchester? Who will he call when he knows his mum couldn't watch his game because she wasn't there to do so? The girls are going to grow up without a biological parent in sight and Louis feels his breathing starting to get uneven. 

"I'm twenty-five, but I still need my mum." Louis admits, looking at the floor. "You're the only person who's always been there. Every failed footy try-out, every fling, every failed test, every skinned knee, you were there. I can't just have that taken from me." He wrings his hands between his thighs and looks up at his mother. She is looking past him with a blank expression, tears still streaking her face.

"Louis, I need you to listen to me. You can zone out through every speech I give you after this one, but you have to tuck this one in a safe spot." Louis leans in attentively, his chin resting on the palm of his hand. "You've already lived more in twenty-five years than I have in my entire life. You need to keep living once I'm gone, okay? The Earth is going to keep rotating and you need to keep up with it. If you get stuck on me being gone, your life will end too. Promise me that you won't let that happen. You're allowed to grieve, but just promise that it won't end your life too." Louis stares at her and wonders if she seriously believes that he will be chipper a week after she kicks the bucket. Apparently she's serious. 

"I... yeah. Okay."

"Promise." She repeats, sounding almost like a child on a playground, asking their friend to keep their secret. 

"I promise, mum." And he means it. He may be a twat most of the time, but he always does what his mother tells him to do. 

She relaxes a bit more and smiles. "Also, at least save me a seat at your wedding. My ghost needs to see what you and Harry looks like at the altar." 

"Mum!" Louis' face is on fire and he can't help but grin. 

"What?"

"We aren't getting married." He laughs, gently pushing her arm. 

"You say that now. Just wait. You'll be cursing the heavens when you realize I'm right." 

Louis doesn't do anything but smile and look at the floor beneath him. His mum has a track record of being right. He just hopes to God that she's right about this as well. As frightening as it is to believe that Louis has already met the man he's going to marry, it feels wrong to think of marrying anyone but Harry. 

He isn't even supposed to be compatible with an Aquarius.


	11. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The update took forever, I know. I'm so sorry. I've been working on a painting and an actual book (!!!) as well as this one, so I've been in creativity overdrive for a couple weeks. Also, you've probably noticed that I'm American, so I know very little about football. I've never played soccer and I'm just going off of what I've heard my friends talk about lol. Pretend that my terminology is correct and that the facts are on point for my sake :) Thank you for reading!!!!

Every once in a while, Louis fantasizes about dating someone who isn't in class all day. Waiting for Harry to be free from the dungeons of academia is one of his least favorite things to partake in. 

Also, he feels a bit creepy thinking about picking him up from school. 

He and Harry are together so often that once school is out, Harry usually skips going home altogether and just goes straight to Louis' flat. It's become a routine thing and as much as Louis loves it, it also scares the hell out of him. Louis is a man of routine, and once that schedule is corrupted, he is not a happy camper. 

Since Harry has wormed his way into his daily life, the concept of him being temporary has been looming over him like a reaper. Zayn tells him to chill the fuck out and accept that everything in life is temporary. Louis is not as easygoing as Zayn. 

Today is Harry's nineteenth birthday and Louis is currently sat on his bed blowing up balloons, Niall sitting on the floor next to him. It's a Friday and Louis could just get on his knees and praise Jesus for letting such an occasion fall on the weekend. The only downside is that he has practice at one tomorrow. 

Ben completely brushed off any form of hell-practice for both Louis and Zayn, and Louis is positive that his sick mum had something to do with it. Ben even granted him a free pass to leave for Doncaster whenever he felt necessary, prohibiting an abuse of power, of course. 

Niall ties off a green balloon and groans. "How many of these do we need? Like, come on, Louis. You're so whipped." 

"How does blowing up balloons for a party make me whipped?" He snips, tying off a blue one. "Besides, you've only blown up, like, eight." Niall rolls his eyes and continues to follow Louis' instructions. The party Louis has planned is similar to his Cup party. It's basically just that one on steroids. He's hired a bartender for the evening, hired a DJ, and has even given his cat to Fizzy for the weekend. If the cat is gone, shit is going down. 

"Exactly how much alcohol is going to be at this thing tonight?" Niall asks hopefully. 

"It's an open bar. Just don't drink everything before people get here." He hits a balloon off of his bed and onto the floor, which is already littered with an array of colors. 

"You may just be the love of my life, Louis Tomlinson." 

"I'm glad I can feed your addiction. Just don't make me your AA sponsor." 

They joke around for a bit until they have every single balloon inflated and ready to go. The floor isn't even visible at this point, and Louis grunts. 

"Why the fuck didn't we do this downstairs. How are we supposed to get all of these down there without stroking out." Niall laughs at him and shrugs.

"Better start kicking." 

Louis follows Niall in shuffling everything down the stairs. He only almost falls twice. 

After about an hour of Louis and Niall sitting around and drinking beer, Zayn shows up with a bag full of sparklers.

"Before I even greet you," Zayn says flatly, "why the fuck are you having sparklers indoors. Are you trying to commit insurance fraud?" He dumps the bag on the kitchen island and takes off his boots before grabbing a beer and plopping himself down next to Louis. 

"It's Harry's aesthetic or something." Louis says through the tip of his bottle. "He mentioned it once a couple months ago." The other two boys just look at him and he raises his eyebrows. "What?"

"You're going to burn down your entire building for Harry's aesthetic. Romantic." Zayn snorts. 

"When was the last time you read about arson caused by sparklers." Louis challenges, giving Zayn a dirty look. He looks over at Niall who quickly breaks eye contact and looks at the ceiling, evidently wanting to avoid coming between Louis and his fondness for Harry. "Exactly." 

"You're nuts. Absolutely mental." Zayn says, shaking his head and taking a drink. 

"You're going to sit there and act like you wouldn't burn the house down making Liam as many mozzarella sticks as he wants?" Zayn glares at Louis and rolls his eyes. 

"No, I wouldn't, because I'm not keen on going to prison." Niall laughs and Louis grins. "But I do see what you mean."

"When was the last time you two were nice to each other. Be honest." Niall says with a smile. Louis and Zayn look at each other with pondering expressions. This is a tough one. 

"I was nice to him when he told me about his mum." Zayn answers. It's valid. 

"Yeah! And I was nice to you the other day when I bought you that scone from Starbucks." Louis points out. They both look at Niall who is looking back at them in disbelief. 

"How are you friends? I genuinely don't get it." They all laugh and Louis puts his arm on the couch behind Zayn. 

"The mutual disgust with one another really brings us closer." He raises his bottle before taking a swig and Zayn does the same. Niall just shakes his head and chuckles.

Later, Louis is getting ready in his room when his phone lights up. It's a text from Harry. 

'seeing you at nine?' 

Louis looks at the time on his phone and it reads 8:15.

'seeing you at nine :)'

He throws his phone onto the bed and continues to push his hair up off his forehead with taffy. He's sporting black skinnies, checkered Vans, and a plain blue t-shirt. Perfect party attire if he's concerned. Plus, the clothes are easily disposable. 

Just in case.

He's invited the entire team, minus the coaches, David, and David's few friends. People are already beginning to show up and the bartender is assuredly already hard at work. Free drinks on a Friday night are a tough thing for guests to pass up. Louis knows their weaknesses. 

Once his hair is set to his standards, he closes his door and makes his way downstairs. 

It's already a bit of a party. Josh, Dan, Niall, and Ethan are playing pong on the dining room table, Zayn and Matt are standing by the bar, each with some mixed drink in their hands, and Andy, Nick, and Stan are sitting on the sofa excitedly discussing something unknown to Louis. He spots Lottie in the kitchen talking to Parker and his eyes narrow. 

He had invited Lottie a couple days prior, not believing that she'd actually catch a train over to Manchester. Apparently she did, and now she is standing in his kitchen in a bodycon dress hitting on one of Louis' teammates. God, he wishes Harry would hurry up and get here. 

He needs a drink. 

The bartender greets him and Louis smiles in return. 

"Manhattan?" He yells over the pounding music, apparently catching Zayn's attention. The bartender nods and gets to work on mixing his drink. Zayn excuses himself from Matt and steps over to Louis. 

"You know, looking at the door every ten seconds isn't going to make him show up any faster." Louis shoots him a look of annoyance.

"Where's Liam?" 

"Working late. He'll be here around nine thirty." Louis nods to that and graciously accepts his drink. 

"I'm going to go chat up Stan." 

Zayn goes back to Matt and Louis sees Blair, Ian, and Jeremy come in at once, all clad in black. 

"Stan! My man!" Louis claps him on the shoulder and Stan turns to him, grinning. 

"What's up, Tommo!" He's clutching a vodka tonic and Louis is already visualizing where the night is headed. It's a bit of a dark place. "Where's your boy?" Louis looks at him for further explanation even though he knows that Stan is talking about Harry. 

"The birthday boy?" Louis plays dumb. 

"Who else?" 

"He's coming at nine." Louis checks the time on his phone. Eight twenty-seven. Fuck. 

"Are we yelling surprise or does he know that there's this many people here?" Nick asks from the other end of the couch, butting into the conversation. Louis never really specified what exactly was going down to Harry, but if Harry knows him at all, he should at least be expecting a minor party. 

Harry deserves the most over the top party Louis can possibly throw. 

The sparklers Zayn had set in a vase on the coffee table catch his eye and he smiles.

"You can say whatever you want when you see him." He decides. "There's a pretty good chance he'll hear the music from the lobby anyway."

"Good point. I'll just jam a shot of vodka in his hand. Rite of passage and all." Nick says happily. Louis gives him a thumbs up then looks back over at Lottie. She's moved even closer to Parker and Louis clenches his jaw. Nick must notice because he starts chuckling.

"Parker knows she's not legal, right?" He wonders out loud. Louis just looks at Nick.

"Probably not. If she's being her normal self, she's totally told him that she's at least nineteen, maybe twenty." Nick gives him a dramatically enthused face and turns around to watch the two interact. 

"Yeah, he's trying to smash." 

Louis drinks whatever's left in his glass before setting it down and walking into the kitchen. 

"Lottie!" He says cheerfully, no matter how fake it is. She whips around, nearly dropping the beer in her hand. Parker looks up and looks like he's been caught by the police. "You made it!" He pulls her into a hug and she awkwardly hugs him back. Louis musters up the deadliest glare possible and shoots it Parker's way over his sister's shoulder. Parker purses his lips.

"Well, it is Harry's birthday. Can't miss that." She says, looking between her brother and the twenty-four year old she was previously flirting with.

Really, Parker is one of the nicer guys on the team, but this is his sister. It's his job to keep her out of trouble. Mostly, he just can't stand to see her succumbing to some white boy's tricks. He's about to tell Parker off when he hears Niall shout his name from across the room. 

"Louis! Come play!" He spots Niall standing on one end of the table alone, Ethan evidently ditching him for Grace over by the powder room. Louis gives Lottie and Parker one last glance before heading over to the dining area, partially against his will. 

"You'd better not be shit, Horan." Louis threatens when he takes his place. 

"There's almost a one hundred percent guarantee that I'm better than you." That is nowhere near a lie and Louis just has to laugh at it. 

By the time the game finishes, Louis has downed two beers and it's about five 'til nine. He and Niall won and it's undoubtedly thanks to Niall's expertise. Louis is a little rusty regarding his pong skills. He looks over at the door, still waiting for his curly headed beau to pop in. 

Harry's absence always makes him feel colder. He doesn't know exactly what that means yet, but one thing he does know is that he's happier when Harry is around. When he walks into a room, it's like Louis' senses know that Harry is breathing the same air as him. 

That's exactly what happens as Louis is walking to the minibar for another drink. 

He stops dead in his tracks and darts his eyes to the front door. Harry is standing there, a grin slapped onto his face. He's donning ripped skinnies, a sheer, floral button-up (which is only halfway buttoned), brown boots, and the tiniest of tiny buns sits on top of his head. Louis can feel his heartbeat in his fingertips and it's just stupid. It's stupid because he and Harry have known each other for four months and Louis still swells with fondness when he sees him. Every time he looks at Harry is like the first time all over again. 

Harry scans the room for Louis and when their eyes lock, Louis' smile somehow grows larger. 

They meet each other halfway and Louis greets him by poking the bun on top of his head. "Bad hair day?" 

"Yes." Harry simpers, looking down at Louis' lips then back up into his eyes. They couldn't be any more obvious if they tried and Louis can't help himself from picking at Harry's shirt.

"One of these again? God, it's like you want me to suffer." 

"Watching you suffer is actually my kink." Harry winks, eyes veering over to the alcohol. "By the way, you didn't have to do all of this. How much of your good air is in these balloons?" He kicks one that hits Matt in the ankle. 

"I have enough left." Louis smirks. He sees Lottie coming up from behind Harry and resents anyone who comes between him and Harry for even the smallest amount of time. "Happy birthday, Harry." Louis spins around and heads over to get a vodka tonic, letting Lottie have Harry for a moment or two. 

"You know," Zayn's voice scares him as he's standing in front of the bartender. Does he just lurk in the shadows until Louis is least expecting one of his remarks? "If you want you two to be a secret, you really need to tone down the sexual tension. You guys might as well just mount each other in the middle of the room." Louis turns to him and grimaces. 

"Zayn, do you know how hard it is to look at him like I don't want to take his clothes off?"

"No, can't say I do." 

"It's hard." He takes a much larger than intended drink of his tonic and nearly gags. Nothing like plain old rubbing alcohol. 

"I'm just saying, as your friend, you should stop looking at him like..." He looks Louis up and down, doing some weird arm motion. "That." 

"Fine, I'll keep my eyes in their pants." He grumbles. Zayn gives him an odd look and laughs. 

"There you go. Now, I have more people to chat up next to this bar. There's basically a line forming." Louis looks behind him and sees no one. Ah, funny. 

"Ha-ha, Zayn. You know, if you really don't want to talk to me, just say so." 

"My fiance is going to be here soon. Do I look okay?" Louis gives him a once over, barely needing to considering it's Zayn they're talking about. He could be boiled in a vat of shit and still look better than anyone Louis knows. 

"You look fine, Zayn. I don't see why you're worried about your appearance considering you live together. Doesn't he see all forms of you." Zayn shrugs.

"Maybe I just wanted to get super fucking laid tonight." Louis can't argue with that. 

"Good luck. You could lose all of your appendages and Liam would still fuck you. Hell, I'd still fuck you." 

"I'm hoping you don't mean that literally." Harry's voice comes out of nowhere and Louis curses. He turns to look at Harry and gives him a smile. 

"We both know that the only dick I want in my arse is yours. And vice versa." He says lowly, refraining from letting anyone hear details about his sex life. He looks back over at Zayn but he's already slinked away to a new group of less disgusting people. Of course. 

"Had me worried. I always figured you'd leave me for Zayn. Wouldn't blame you, honestly." Louis can't fathom ever leaving Harry for anyone. Why isn't he continuing to throw back the drink in his hand? 

"No one is leaving anyone for Zayn." Louis promises. "Now, go get yourself a Manhattan. Start off your birthday the right way. Also, I bought you a tiara to wear all night. You're my perfect princess." He looks over to the shelf he'd set the tiara on and points to it. 

"You're a twat." Harry says under his breath with a hint of a smile. 

While he's getting his drink, Louis goes and grabs the tiara and basically skips back to his boyfriend. It's a cheap, plastic thing, definitely intended for the use of a child. It has plastic rubies on it and Louis cannot wait to see it perched in front of Harry's bun. If he doesn't get at least one picture of it, the night will be considered a bust. 

He meets Harry in the living area and hands him the crown. "Now, here's my gift to you." He lays it on Harry's head, adjusting it before Harry can protest. Harry is shooting daggers his way when he steps back to admire his work. 

"Beautiful." Louis pulls out his phone to take a picture but it's snatched out of his hands. "Hey!"

"Relax, Lou. I'm leaving it on." Harry laughs, opening Louis' phone up to the camera. "However, every picture I'm wearing this in, you have to be in it too." Louis nods. He thinks he can manage that. 

Harry hands the phone to Stan who even stands up to get a shot of the two of them. Harry's hand is on the small of Louis' back, Louis' arm around his shoulder. Just two mates having a good time. As mates. Stan hands the phone back to Louis and Louis shows the picture to Harry for approval. 

"Oh, yeah. That's going on the fridge here." Harry exclaims. Nick comes up to them and, as promised, is carrying a shot in one hand. 

"Got this for the birthday boy." His gaze flickers to the tiara then he corrects himself. "Well, the birthday princess." Harry takes the glass from Nick's hand and throws it back, making a sour face after doing so. 

"Thanks for the plain vodka, asshole." He swears, wiping his lips on the back of his hand. Nick just cackles. 

"Couldn't think of anything better to give you than hard liquor. Got to get you wasted by the end of the night." 

x

Nick's plan to murder Harry via alcohol may actually be carried out. It's midnight and Louis is sitting on the floor against the back of the couch, drink in one hand, blunt in the other. Harry is across from him, mirroring his actions. Zayn and Liam are watching them from the kitchen and are most definitely gossiping about the two. 

"You're the best person I know." Harry slurs. Between the copious amounts of alcohol they've consumed and the weed they've smoked, Louis doesn't know how either of them are still conscious. Is he even conscious? 

"Fuck, Harry. You're the best person I know." Louis emphasizes 'I' and giggles. "We should get married." 

Stan sits down next to Louis and holds his thumb and index finger out for a hit. Louis passes it and continues to admire the view in front of him. Harry's tiara is falling to the left side of his head, his eyes glassy and heavy. 

"Let's do it." Harry agrees and nearly falls over trying to take another hit. 

"What are you doing?" Stan asks innocently. Louis is too crossfaded to care at this point. 

"Harry and I are getting married." His eyes widen and he sits up straight. "You should be in the wedding! You're a good fucking lad, Stan. A good lad." Stan looks between Harry and Louis before narrowing his eyes and smirking. 

"You two are together, aren't you?" Harry chokes on something minuscule and Louis looks like a deer in headlights. 

"Dammit! Another sunken ship!" Louis yells, attracting the attention of nearly half of his guests. Harry is slumped over giggling and Louis can't help but giggle too. Stan looks like he's just witnessed a murder. 

"I don't know what just happened, so I'm going to pretend this never occurred." He hands the blunt back to Louis who is lying next to Harry, both still giggling uncontrollably. 

"We're getting married, Louis." Harry chimes, poking Louis' cheek. 

"I'm going to tell Zayn." He climbs to his feet, wobbling a bit when he stands up. After he spots Zayn he treks over to him. Well, it feels like a trek. 

"Zayn!" Louis cheers, his hands occupied with alcohol and weed. Zayn grins at him. 

"Louis!" He responds in the same tone Louis used. 

"Harry and I are getting married." 

"Really?" 

"Yeah! And guess what? The feeling is mutual. We've discussed it." Zayn looks over to Liam who is suppressing a smile. 

"Well, shit, Louis. When's the wedding?" Zayn asks. 

Louis just stares back at him, blinking slowly while trying to remember what he told Zayn. How long has he been standing there? Was Zayn's shirt always red? 

"Louis." Zayn says, more concerned than before. "You good?"

"I'm great. I'm going to go find Harry." He turns around and his eyes fall on the space Harry occupied just a minute earlier, only Harry isn't there anymore. In fact, Harry isn't even in the room. "Liam." Louis says abruptly. "Where's Harry?"

Liam is silent for a moment, probably looking around because he doesn't trust Louis' judgment. 

"I don't know, mate. I don't see him." For some reason, this instills panic in Louis. There's no way that Harry has left considering he's in Louis' flat, but he's also not at the actual party. Maybe he's overlooking him. 

Louis stumbles over to the lounge area where Matt and Nick are chatting and looks at the two men. "Have you seen Harry?" He asks. They look at each other then around the room before returning their gaze to Louis. 

Nick is the one who responds. "No, I don't." His brow is furrowed and he scans the room again. "Wasn't he just with you? You two are inseparable." 

"I went to talk to Liam and Zayn and when I turned around he was gone." Louis sighs. He spots Niall and completely abandons his current conversation to start one up with him. "Niall!" Niall turns his head to face Louis who is striding up to him. 

"What's up?" He's standing with Ian, Ethan, Stan, Grace, Barbara, and Jeremy, and suddenly Louis feels put on the spot. Niall is waiting for an answer so Louis roughly pulls him aside. "Jesus, Lou. Easy there. I was in the middle of a conversation." 

"I've lost Harry." He says quickly. Niall looks confused then starts laughing. 

"How do you lose a person? Your flat isn't that big." Louis just pouts in response. "Okay, I'm sorry, fuck. I don't know where he is. You've looked everywhere?"

"Everywhere." That's a lie. Well, he's looked everywhere in spirit. His flat has an open floor plan so it shouldn't be that hard to spot a boy wearing a tiara in it. 

"You're completely faded aren't you." Niall deadpans. Louis just gives him a closed smile. "Of course you are. Listen, go drink some water and we'll see if he's gone outside or something." 

"I don't need water, I need Harry." Water sounds really appealing after Niall mentions it and Louis realizes how dry his mouth is. However, it's not as appealing as the thought of having Harry by his side. When did he get to the point where he can't breathe if he doesn't know where Harry is? The two of them should probably set boundaries sometime soon. 

"Okay, yes, fine. I'll go outside and look for him. Have you tried upstairs?" Why hasn't he thought of going upstairs? Harry was drunk and high and tired and there's an abundance of beds upstairs. God, Louis is an idiot when he's under the influence. Even drunk Niall has his shit together. 

"Upstairs." He repeats, pushing past Niall and jogging up the winding stairs. He reaches the landing and sees that his bedroom door is cracked open, light peeking out into the hallway. Thank fucking God. Pushing the door open, Louis expects to see Harry sprawled out on his bed. Instead, he finds an empty bedroom. "Harry?" He says quietly, stepping into the dimly lit room. He looks ahead and finds his bathroom door shut but there's light coming from the gap between the floor and the actual door. "Fucking hell." He mutters under his breath. The sound of running water is muffled through the door. He turns the doorknob and finds Harry sitting in a full bathtub, still entirely clothed. He even kept his tiara on. 

"Louis." Harry smiles, pulling a soaking wet arm out of the water and waving. Louis leans against the door frame and just grins at the idiot in his bathtub. 

"What are you doing?" Louis asks while taking out his phone for a picture. He takes it while Harry responds. 

"I was hot so I poured a cold bath." He looks around himself and giggles. "I forgot to take my clothes off, though." Louis' heart could burst from how much he adores Harry Styles. Shutting the door behind him, Louis sits on the toilet lid directly across from the tub. 

"You're a bloody idiot, Harry." He says fondly. Harry scrunches his nose up and smiles back at him. 

"I love you." Harry says as he adjusts his tiara. 

Louis' breath immediately hitches in his throat and his head feels fuzzy. The moment seems surreal, and since he's been smoking and drinking, he isn't one hundred percent positive that the moment is even happening. What if he's just dreaming and it's one of those hyperrealistic dreams? How will he know if he's woken up? 

Harry splashes water at him. He's conscious and Harry said it. The boy who's drenched himself in Louis' bathtub in the middle of his own fucking birthday party loves him. The boy who bumped into him at Old Trafford, who makes him feel so much more than he ever believed to be possible, loves him. 

Harry Styles loves him.

"Harry." Louis feels like he's whispering, not even sure if words are coming out of his mouth. He may forget everything that happens tonight but he knows for a fact that he will never in his life forget this moment. It's like someone made a rubber stamp of it and inked it onto Louis' hippocampus. 

"I think I've loved you since you let me eat ramen noodles in your kitchen." The room is still and all that Louis can focus on is beautiful, glistening Harry. 

"If that's what it takes to make you love me, then you might want to raise your standards a bit." Louis loves Harry so much that he can't breathe. 

Harry doesn't respond. He just looks back at Louis, not like he's expecting anything, but like he enjoys the boy who's sitting across from him. The sheer fabric of his shirt is completely see-through now and every one of his tattoos is visible. Louis has grown to know Harry's body like the back of his hand, but in this moment Harry's raw beauty still catches him off guard. 

"I love you so much, Harry." He actually says more to himself than to his boyfriend. Harry stares back at him and nods. "I don't know how someone can be everything, but you are." 

The two boys sit in silence for a couple minutes, Louis eventually shutting off the running bath faucet. Harry's eyes are closed and Louis can't tear his away from his boyfriend. The relationship between the two of them has shifted so drastically in the past five minutes that Louis is still trying to wrap his head around it. It's no longer a fling. It's the real fucking deal. It's something that can go on forever. Louis wants it to go on forever. 

"Harry." Louis finally says softly. Harry doesn't move so Louis gets up from the toilet and removes his tiara, stroking the side of his face with his fingertips. "Love." Harry's eyes flutter open and Louis crouches down so they're eye level. "Let's get you out of here, yeah?" Harry nods and Louis stands up again, clearly overestimating his ability to carry out basic motor skills. Once he braces his arm against the wall and gets his balance, he holds his hand out for Harry to take. 

Harry is standing on the tile, dripping water everywhere, so Louis fetches a towel from inside the cabinet and wraps it around his shivering shoulders. 

"I love you." Harry says again as Louis unbuttons his jeans. 

"I know." He tugs them down Harry's legs, trying to get Harry out of his wet clothes and into dry ones. "I love you." 

"I know." 

Once Harry is completely naked, Louis goes into his bedroom to find something for Harry to wear. He returns to the bathroom with Adidas trackies, an oversized grey shirt, and a pair of boxer briefs. 

"Put these on. You won't be so cold." He hands the pile over to Harry before going back into his room to sit down. His head is spinning and he's only halfway convinced that it's from the toxins he's put into his body. Louis knows that he should go back to his party considering he's the host, but he can't bring himself to leave Harry alone when he's in such a fucked state. 

Harry walks into the bedroom fully clothed and sits down next to Louis on the bed. 

"Did you see the sparklers." Louis continues to look at the floor as he speaks. 

"Yeah. Should've brought some up here." 

"So then we can cause a mattress fire? Good idea." Harry laughs under his breath at that and lays his head on Louis' shoulder. 

"Thank you for the party, even if I did get monumentally trashed." 

"That was kind of the point." Louis puts his hand on Harry's knee and closes his eyes. "That princess gear suits you, you know." 

"Oh, I know." Louis feels Harry's head lift from his shoulder but he can't bring himself to open his eyes. Lips slowly press against his, Harry lazily kissing Louis for what seems like hours. Time ceases to exist when Louis is high, he's realized. 

His bedroom door opens but they aren't quick enough. Louis' eyes snap open to reveal Stan standing in the doorway, mouth slightly ajar in surprise. "Oh, um. I'll just-" He goes to exit the room but Louis stops him. 

"Stan." He pauses in the doorway. "Keep us hidden, yeah?" Stan nods and closes the door behind himself. Harry sighs and lies back on the bed. 

"At least it was one of my good mates." Louis tries to make Harry feel better.

"My job is gone." Harry covers his eyes. 

Louis is grateful that Stan is such an understanding lad. Otherwise, who knows what lengths he would have to go to to protect Harry and him. 

Shifting his body so he's hovering over Harry, Louis brushes his fingers through Harry's hair. "Hey. Your job is fine. I trust Stan, really." Harry nods and Louis leans down to give him a quick kiss. "Now, we can either get our shit together and go back down to your party, or we can stay in my bed until we're both dead."

"I like the second option better." Harry smirks, pushing Louis onto his side.

And once again, he and Harry fall into their same old routine. 

x

"My mum found out." 

Louis is on his way home from footy practice, his head absolutely pounding from the night before. He's at a red light with Harry's voice coming through the bluetooth in his car. 

"What-"

"She knows we're together. I mean, I am never home anymore and I'm always with you, so I'm kind of surprised it even took her this long." Louis can hear the panic in Harry's voice and he doesn't blame him. What now?

"So... Are you forbidden from seeing me or something?" He asks nervously. Harry laughs. 

"No, don't you remember? My mum adores you. She just wants to meet you in person to make sure you're not a total wanker like some footy players." Relief floods through his body. The light turns green and he continues on his route home. 

"Okay, so when are we meeting?" 

"Tonight." 

Louis nearly rear ends the car in front of him. The sudden stop makes his stomach churn and he curses under his breath. 

"Excuse me?" He chokes out. It's already three thirty. 

"Yeah, sorry about that one. She wants to have dinner at five at my house?" He sounds like he's cringing and Louis is almost annoyed considering he should be the one who's uncomfortable. He has about an hour to get showered, shaved, and gussied up. Fucking hell. 

"Okay, yeah, I can do that. I'm not home yet, but I'm almost there." He turns onto his street. "Am I about to be slaughtered by your mum?" 

"By my mum? No. By Gemma? Maybe." Great. He's going to be murdered by Harry's sister. Hopefully she at least has the decency to hide his body somewhere interesting. Louis Tomlinson is worth more than a trash bag in a dumpster behind a McDonald's.

"Thanks." He says flatly, pulling into his flat's parking garage. "I'm going to go. My time to relax and get ready has been limited." 

"Okay." Pause. "I love you." Harry murmurs, not sounding too confident in Louis' ability to remember the previous night. 

"I love you." Louis says back. He can practically hear Harry grinning on the other end of the line. "See you at five." The call ends and Louis parks his Rover. 

It's three forty-one when Louis enters his flat and he basically sprints to the shower. The one fucking time that he doesn't shower at the pitch, of course. He avoided it so he could wretch peacefully in his own shower. Lord knows that he needs to. 

He's never actually met a boyfriend's family before, so he isn't quite sure what to expect. He doesn't have the slightest clue about what to wear. Are jeans too casual? What if they're black? The stupid shit he ponders while in the shower eats away at him. It's all he can do to text Harry for advice.

'what the fuck do I wear'

Harry responds once he's finished shaving the stubble from his jawline.

'the same shit you always wear. just be you'

That's a load of shit. The real Louis is a morbid wreck. Not exactly the personality type a parent dreams of their child pursuing. At least he has a steady income. 

Louis opens his closet door and sighs. 'Just be you'. Yeah, okay. A water droplet from his hair slides into his eye as he rummages through more casual shirts. He takes it as a sign from the universe to steer clear of anything that doesn't have buttons. 

Once he settles on a red button up and black jeans, he commits to styling his hair. 

He's lucky that he doesn't have to retrieve Lilac until tomorrow, otherwise she would be deeply annoyed by a lack of attention this weekend. There's no doubt that his sisters have been doting on her for the past two days. Lottie took a train home before Louis left for practice and he never even got to berate her for hitting on his teammate. That's a problem for future him. 

By the time Louis is ready to leave, it's nearly twenty 'til five. 

'about to leave. see you there' 

He presses send and locks the door behind himself, making his way down to his car. It's a good thing he can afford to speed the entire way there.

By the time he pulls into the Styles' driveway, it's a couple minutes past five. Rush hour in Manchester is an ugly son of a bitch. 

Louis takes one last look at himself in his rearview mirror before snatching up the bottle of merlot in his passenger's seat and walking up to the front door. Yeah, he's already sweating. It could be nerves, but it's also very likely that it's the hangover. Of course he's hungover to meet Harry's parents. His life is a joke.

After knocking, he only waits a few seconds before someone is opening the door for him. He finds Harry's face behind it and is flooded with relief. 

"Hi." Harry doesn't look too hot, Louis assuming that he's also completely wrecked from the night before. 

"Hi." Louis replies. Harry eyes the merlot in Louis' hands then looks back up at him, sticking his tongue out in disgust. 

"You're not expecting me to ingest that anytime soon, are you?" Louis shrivels up his nose and laughs. 

"I'm hoping they don't pop it open until I'm long gone." He steps over the threshold and the door closes behind him. Harry leads him into the kitchen where Anne is standing against the counter, scrolling through something on her phone. 

"Mum." Harry says. Anne's head shoots up and a smile immediately stretches across her face. 

"Louis Tomlinson." She says, sort of sounding like she doesn't believe he's in her kitchen. He can't believe it either, to be fair. Hopefully he isn't giving off the smell of alcohol like some tree giving out oxygen. Is that how it works? 

"It's lovely to meet you." Louis says, sticking his hand out. Anne rolls her eyes and pulls him into a hug. "I brought wine." Idiot. 

They break apart and he holds up the merlot, an awkward smile gracing his lips. 

"Thank you so much!" She accepts the bottle and looks at the two boys. "We'll have to open it for dinner." Harry and Louis instantly start shaking their heads. 

"Not necessary." Harry says thickly just as Louis says, "You should treat yourself." She narrows her eyes at them and sets the bottle on the counter. 

"Your party must have been a good one, yeah?" Anne chuckles, turning around to get something out of the oven. 

"It was lovely, really." Harry nods. He smirks at Louis and Louis blushes. "Felt like a princess the whole time." 

That fucking tiara. 

"Were there a lot of people there?" Anne uncovers a dish of lasagne. 

"Most of the team plus a few others. It wasn't a rager or anything, mum." Harry sighs. Louis laughs to himself over how young Harry is and how much younger his mum is probably making him feel. 

"It still blows my mind that you just casually lounge about with players from the footy club, Harry." A man, who must be Robin, says, walking into the room. A girl with Harry's mouth is following behind him and Louis knows that it's Gemma. Now he knows how Harry felt while being bombarded by his sisters. Somehow, this may be scarier. 

"Celebrities! They're just like us!" Gemma exclaims sarcastically. She sidles up to the lasagne and nods at it. "A snack." 

"Why do you keep saying that?" Anne asks, sounding slightly annoyed. 

"I'm pretty sure you won't understand a single part of her explanation." Harry responds, saving Gemma some breath. Louis thinks fondly of his family and his home when he was nineteen. Breakfast on Saturday mornings, the twins playing princesses around the table, Lottie insisting that she could sing better than Celine Dion. The atmosphere is familiar. It's comfortable. 

Harry must notice Louis has relaxed a bit because he brushes his fingers across his hand and gives him a small smile. 

"So, Louis." Louis' attention focuses on Robin and he waits for a followup. "I wouldn't be doing my job if I didn't ask this-"

"Robin-" Harry cuts in but Robin just talks over him. 

"Your intentions are good with him, yeah? Because I love watching you on the telly, but I won't hesitate to kick your arse if you hurt him." Harry has his fingertips on his forehead and is staring at the floor while Gemma snorts. 

It's almost embarrassing how good Louis' intentions with Harry are.

"I'm doing my best to give him the best." Louis responds simply. It's true. He's not a pro when it comes to relationships, but it's probably best that he isn't. People who know what they're doing tend to create fabricated relationships. 

"Good. Keep it that way." Robin says light-heartedly. Thank god that's over. Interrogation is his weakness, and not in a good way. 

"If you're finished interviewing the man who makes Harry happiest, I'd like to start eating." Anne says to her husband, setting the last glass of water on the table. Gemma is already seated and Harry pulls out a chair for Louis to take. 

"Thanks." He mumbles, sitting down. Harry and Robin follow and Anne sticks a spatula into the pasta dish. 

"I'm just so glad you could join us on such short notice." Anne tells Louis happily. "I've been hearing about you for weeks now." Louis smirks at Harry who is playfully avoiding eye contact.

"Thank you for having me. I've also heard a bit about you." He watches Harry dish out a square of pasta, his fingers gripping the handle of the spatula. God, it never stops, does it? Will he ever not be fascinated by Harry's anatomy? 

"Assuming only good things?" She jokes, eyeing Harry. 

"Only good things." Louis assures. Harry takes his plate from in front of him and loads it up, Louis shamelessly staring as he does. 

"Have your parents met Harry yet?" Robin asks innocently. Gemma coughs and Harry bites his lip. Okay, so communication is a bit patchy between Harry and his mum and step-dad. 

"My mum has, yeah." Louis says, not positive that he should go into detail about the situation. Kind of a mood killer. "Not sure my dad would really know why I came to see him." He chuckles uncomfortably. Even Harry doesn't know the situation between Louis and his father. It's not important enough to waste his breath on. 

"Oh, I wasn't aware that he wasn't in the picture. I'm sorry." Robin says quickly, wiping his mouth with a napkin. 

"It's okay, really. It's not an issue. My mum really likes Harry, though. Probably more than she likes me." He jokes. 

"Kind of hard to top how much she loves you." Harry smiles. God dammit. 

"Mummy's boy, huh?" Gemma adds, grinning. "Good. I don't trust anyone who doesn't get along with their mother." 

"That's right." Anne says happily. She's clearly raised two children who respect her an incredible amount. "What does your mum do?" 

"Jay." Louis says. "And she was a teacher, but now she just stays at home with the girls. I've got four sisters, so it's basically a full-time job. I take care of finances. It works." He may be oversharing, but people tend to judge when he mentions that his mum's job is mothering her children. They act like it's easy. 

"I'd love to meet her." Anne says. Louis just looks at Harry then back at her and nods. 

"I'm sure she'd love to meet you, too." 

Harry changes the subject, thank god, and the rest of dinner goes smoothly. Harry's family is normal and accepting, and Louis is just so grateful that he didn't fuck it up somehow. Gemma is also now one of his favorite people. 

When the dishes have been cleaned and everyone has settled into the living room, Harry announces that he's going to show Louis his 'lair'. Louis seriously fucking hates him. 

"I know you're old and this is some shit teenagers do," Harry says as they walk upstairs, "but I also really want to make out with you for a bit, so I think you can suffer through a room tour." 

"You know me well." Louis laughs, following Harry into a small, pale green room. The duvet is in a ball at the bottom of his bed, clothes that Louis has become familiar with strewn across the floor. There's a guitar sitting in the corner of the room and a couple football posters are taped on the walls. 

"Here she is, in all of her glory." Harry extends his arm to show off his messy bedroom. 

"I'm kind of offended that one of my posters didn't make it onto your wall." Louis jokes. 

"Oh, trust me, you were up there. Figured it'd be a bit creepy to have my boyfriend's poster staring at me. It turns you into someone who isn't real. I quite like the real version of you." Harry shuts the door with his foot and grips Louis' hips, going in for a kiss. Louis would let Harry kiss him whenever and wherever. Fuck paparazzi. 

"Kind of weird seeing all of these clothes not on you. It's like every day I've been with you is thrown onto your floor." Louis says against Harry's lips. Harry rolls his eyes and keeps kissing him. Stop talking. Right. 

Louis moves Harry against the wall and lazily kisses his boyfriend, the boy he loves so, so much. He's pretty sure Harry is pressed up against some old Man U player, which he's kind of thankful that it's not a current one. Nothing like making out on top of a picture of one of your mates. 

They kiss each other like time doesn't exist, the slow drag of their mouths against the other's making it much more heartfelt and much less lust-filled. Who knew that Harry's lips could temporarily cure a killer hangover. Honestly, Louis should've guessed that they would. It seems like any part of Harry could cure anything at this point. 

"You know I love you?" Harry mumbles into Louis' mouth. 

"We're in love." Louis smiles, their foreheads resting together. The words just roll off of his tongue and they don't even scare him. He is so fucking in love with Harry Styles that he can barely think straight. 

"We were going to get married last night." Harry giggles, resting the back of his head on the wall and looking at Louis, breathless. 

"Yeah, and you would've been drenched in bath water if we had." They stand there grinning stupidly at each other for a couple seconds, completely content on having a conversation with their eyes. The chemistry between them is hyperreal. Louis knows he'll never come across this feeling again in his life. 

"I love you so much that I don't know what to do with you." Harry says softly. He reaches up and brushes back Louis' hair. "Is this me being a dumb teenager or is it the real deal." Louis mentally crosses his fingers that it's the real deal, even though he knows that it is. He can feel the adoration in every touch and hear it in every word. Someone would have to be a fool not to. 

"It's the real deal."

"I'm not just a fling?" 

"If this is just a fling, then I fucked it up pretty badly." Louis laughs. He slides his hand into Harry's back pocket and somehow pulls him even closer. "It's not a fling. Never was, never will be." 

"Good. I don't want to be your fling." Harry kisses him lightly then rests his head on Louis' shoulder. "This is going to make me sound like a serial killer or something, but I miss the way you smell when you're not around." Louis laughs and slowly trails his fingers up and down Harry's back. 

"We need to learn how to be apart." Harry stiffens in his arms and Louis starts shaking his head. "Not like that. I just mean, like, last night I almost broke down because I couldn't find you. We need to be able to breathe without each other, you know?" 

Louis can feel Harry swallow against him. "Yeah. I know what you mean."

"I love you." Louis assures, kissing the side of Harry's head. 

"I love you."


End file.
